


Palm Trees and Scraped Knees

by ProsperDemeter



Series: Palm Trees and Scraped Knees [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby!Peter, Baby!Peter will steal your heart and your girl, Chapter four is a sick baby fic, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm sure at some point this will get more of a plot, Irondad, Other, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sweet, soft, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperDemeter/pseuds/ProsperDemeter
Summary: How they got here wasn't important.Or, well, it was important it just… wasn’t important.Not when he had this little slice of happiness cradled in his arms.





	1. Newborn

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey there. 
> 
> I haven't written fan works in so long, guys like it's insane. But I missed it. I had a plot. I went with it. 
> 
> This has been done before. I never said I was one for originality. I couldn't resist, though and so I present to you... Dad!Tony meets Baby!Peter.

How they got here wasn’t important. 

Or, well, it was important it just… wasn’t important. 

Not when he had this little slice of happiness cradled in his arms. He had a small tuft of hair on top of his head, tiny lips were pursed into little pink slivers, a button nose that flared out just a little bit whenever he breathed in, and the tightest grip in all ten of his small baby nubby fingers. 

It was love, Tony thought that he was feeling. All encompasisng, heart stopping, hand squeezing his lungs making his breath short love. 

“Hey baby.” His voice scratched out his chest when he finally spoke, a nurse bumped into him, tiny cheeks brushed against the plush blanket the baby was swaddled in. 

The baby had a grip on his left pointer finger, tight, strong, and weak all at once. How was he so strong? He was so little. “Hey baby.” Tony said again, his voice catching and stuttering on its way out. He swayed to the side when the nurse told him to, a soft understanding look on her face that knew better than to ask for him to hand over the precious cargo he carried. 

Tony may have been crying, definitely looked like one hot mess but the baby didn’t seem to care. 

How they got here wasn’t important. 

Except… maybe it was. 

\-----

It was a party. She was a scientist. He was drunk. Things happened and moments converged and she never told him and he didn’t know until it was too late to do anything but answer a call, hear “Your baby is on the way”, hop on a plane, and get there an hour after he was born. 

She didn’t talk to him, refused to look at him and declined holding the little guy. Tony hadn’t told a soul where he was, which explained why hours later, eyes dry with sleep, his phone was vibrating against his front pocket with the only person’s number JARVIS was programed to let through even on Do Not Disturb. 

“Where are you?” She demanded in a clear, annoyed and beautiful voice. 

“New York.” Tony couldn’t look away. 

Baby Boy Stark they had written on the slip of paper on the crib. A nurse had brought him a chair to sit in after he was standing for a few hours - she looked dead on her feet and was probably coming off of a thirteen hour shift or something crazy like that but had said that Tony looked like he needed it more than her. They knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Knew he couldn’t tear himself away. That he hadn’t dreamed of this moment but wasn’t going to trade it for anything in the world. 

“Why?” It was hissed, sharp, frustrated, worried and just a tad curious.

“I don’t know what to call him.” She doesn’t know what you’re talking about, Tony, his mind hissed like a secret in his ear. It sounded like an echo of his mother. “The baby.” He heard Pepper stutter on the other end. “My baby. Boy. My baby boy. I… have a baby.” 

There was a vocal stutter on the other end of the phone. Like Pepper couldn’t think of words and wasn’t sure if what he was saying was true. “Are you drunk, Mister Stark?” 

“I refuse to name him after dear old dad or, ugh, Anthony Junior.” There was a soft coo from the crib and Tony smiled, his hand heavy on the tiny belly. “Did you get the picture I sent you?” 

“You didn’t send me a picture.” It was dry. Slightly panicked. 

“Yes I did.” He had actually just sent it. Just taken it too, the phone on speaker for just a small moment to snap the shot. A close up of a small peaceful face, all red cheeks and dots of freckles on his nose. “Look again.” 

She did. 

He could tell by the soft gasp on the other end. “Tony.” It was said between what he could picture was a hand pressed to a mouth, eyes wide and worry growing in her heart. “Whose baby is this?” 

“Mine.” He couldn’t even grasp it himself. “My baby.” 

“Your baby.” Pepper sounded annoyed now. “You can’t just go into a hospital and pick up any random baby you want, Tony.” 

“I know that.” 

Dimly, he knew he should be frustrated and annoyed that Pepper Potts - the one woman to see through him all these years - couldn’t imagine a world where he - Anthony Edward Stark - was a father. But he couldn’t muster up the dark side of him to square up against her and fight her image of him. It’s not like he ever gave her a chance at a different opinion, either way. “Remember that party? Back in October?” 

“You’re not making any sense, Mister Stark.” 

“That’s how we got here. He’s mine.” 

“You don’t just go to a party and suddenly have a baby!” 

“Well he took nine months to be made.” 

“It took like ten minutes to be made.” 

“He took a nine month vacation in his mother’s womb.” 

“Who is she?” Pepper asked, resigning herself to the facts. 

“Not important.” Tony waved the question away.

“Do you want this all over the newspapers in the morning? What hospital are you at? I’ll send over NDAs.” 

“What do I name him?” Tony asked again. 

“Mister Stark.” 

“Mercy. In the city.” She hummed as though she had expected that answer and he could hear her typing away at her computer. “What do I name him, Miss Potts?” 

“What are you calling him now?” 

“Baby Stark.” 

She snorted. 

Pepper Potts actually snorted. 

“What should I tell Mister Stane?” She asked instead of answering. 

“Nothing. Everything.” Tony shrugged and the baby sniffed and moved, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks. “Baby Stark’s waking up. Call you later.” 

“I’ll book your hotel, Mister Stark.” 

“Thank you, Miss Potts.” 

\-----

Tony shouldn’t have been surprised when, out of everyone, Rhodey was the one person to knock on his hotel room’s door at four in the morning. 

“What the hell are you doing, Tones?” It was about ten minutes later that he asked the question, when Tony and Baby Stark were sitting on an armchair staring into each other’s eyes. 

Rhodey had shoved his way past Tony who had a burp cloth over his shoulder, woken up a finally peacefully sleeping baby, and proceeded to jump ten feet in the air as Baby Stark started wailing. 

Tony had sent him and Happy the same picture he had sent Pepper - Rhodey’s with an introduction into Uncle-hood and Happy with a request to go through his home, office, and any and all cars to throw out all of his liquor and alcohol he had lying around. Cold turkey wasn’t the smartest way to go, but, really, Tony couldn’t exactly drink all day every day when he also had to feed a baby. Whether either of them answered Tony didn’t know - since he had tossed his phone back onto Do Not Disturb for anyone other Pepper and gone to bed. 

Clearly, Rhodey hadn’t gotten the message until seeing the baby though. And after ten minutes of wide eyed staring he had seemed to finally catch up to what was going on. “Feeding the baby.” Tony answered like the smart ass he was. 

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Where did you get the baby?”

“The stork.” 

“Be real with me, Tony.” Rhodey sat forward, his forearms on his knees and lips pressed with worry. “Did you steal this baby?” 

“Why would I steal a baby?” Baby Stark’s tiny fingernails scratched at the skin around Tony’s knuckle, swallowing from the bottle as fast as his tiny throat could. “He’s mine.” 

“He’s… yours?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Rhodey nodded seriously. “Are you drunk?”

“Nope. Sober as all hell.” Tony shifted a little so that he legs were out straight on the matress, Baby Stark nestled into the crook of his arm and lap, his back against the headboard. “This guy is one hell of a hangover cure.” 

“Who is his mother?” Rhodey paused. “Where is his mother?” 

“Mary Parker. I think they released her yesterday from the hospital.” 

“How…?” 

“Not important.” Hazel eyes met chocolate brown, Baby Stark’s Doe eyes taking in anything and everything even though he couldn’t really focus on them. They were beautiful and brought up a hazy memory of a party and glittering lights. “She told me a few months ago. Didn’t want him anymore.” 

“And you didn’t...?” 

“Tell anyone? No.” 

“Why?” 

Tony wasn’t sure why, if he was being honest and he didn’t want to lie to Rhodey so he shrugged instead. “Didn’t seem important.” 

“You’re important, Tones.” 

“Not as important as him.” He jiggled the baby in his arms to switch him to leaning on his shoulder, his mouth over the burp cloth and a big, steady hand that covered all of the Baby’s soft head holding his head in place. 

Rhodey watched him burp Baby Stark. Watched him wipe off the tiny lips and place the wiggling, kicking baby onto the bed next to him, a stuffed bear that seemingly appeared out of nowhere bracketing Baby Stark in place where Tony wasn’t. Rhodey watched him and saw Tony smile that wide smile that made his eyes crinkle in the corners that he hadn’t seen in a long time and decided. “Move over.” He settled himself on the hotel bed, on the other side of Baby Stark. “Can I hold him?” 

“Watch his head.” Tony advised. 

Baby Stark had stolen his heart with one little tiny hand around his pointer finger. He was light, made little tiny squeaks every now and then, and yawned so much that he could see his pink round tongue and empty gums. “What’s his name?” 

“I’ve been calling him Baby Stark.” Tony sat a bit closer, almost too close for what was considered normal for friends but not abnormal for brothers and ran a finger down Baby Stark’s little button nose. 

“We’re not sticking with that.” 

“We?” 

“Rhodey Junior.” 

“Anthony the Second.” 

“Oliver Twist.” 

“JARVIS.” 

“Peter Cotton-Tail.” 

“I like that.” Tony was startled. They had been joking around, naming ridiculous things. But Rhodey had hit it on the nail. 

“Cotton-Tail is a horrible name.” 

“Peter. Stark. Peter James Stark.” 

“Now there’s a good name.” 

“How about that, Baby Stark?” Tony asked softly, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the soft cheeks. “How about that, Peter?” 

He didn’t answer, but Tony thought he could see it in his face. Peter James Stark. 

“Welcome to the world, baby boy.” Daddy loves you.


	2. One Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. I'm back. With more fluff. 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and likes, loves. I adore each of you.

Pepper showed up in New York about a week later. It was probably the only time Tony had, and would, ever seen her in sweatpants and an old fitted college t-shirt. Her hair was up in a messy bun and she wasn't wearing any makeup but second to only the baby - his baby boy- she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

Tony hadn't answered the door but Rhodey did, Tony changing Peter on the bed into a set of those adorable footie pajamas. It had little mittens to keep him from scratching at himself and the baby adorably seemed frustrated he couldn't feel his own skin. Pepper had shoved past Rhodey - no easy feat - and stopped in the doorway of the bedroom. 

"Oh god," her voice hadn't startled him, no matter what the jump of his shoulders had said. "It's real." 

Peter let out a noise and flopped his hands onto the bed. Tony snorted. "Peter's insulted." 

"Who?" 

"Peter." Tony pointed at the baby like she hadn't seen him or heard him screaming when she shoved past Rhodey. "He is very real." 

"I can't believe this." 

"Right? He looks exactly like me." 

Pepper just stared at him, her eyes narrowed in that way that told him he was in for a world of trouble. Rhodey shoved a full coffee mug in front of Pepper's face and swung in to rescue his new best friend. He cradled Peter to his chest, folded down the mittens so Peter could scratch at his face again like Tony didn't want him to do, and talked in the most obnoxious high pitched voice Tony had ever heard from him before. "Daddy's screwed isn't he?" Rhodey tickled Peter's cheek looking for a reaction. Peter just swiped at his hand instead. 

"Want to hold him?" Tony asked after an eyeroll. 

"Don't you dare." Pepper warned but it was too late, Rhodey had already handed over the baby like he was a bomb. Which, considering how much he cried whenever something minorly inconvenienced him wasn't too far off. "Oh." 

It wasn't meant to be heard, obviously. But Tony could recognize the softening eyes and uncreased worry lines in her forehead. 

Tony walked over to her shoulder, his hand reaching around her to cradle his head stronger than she dared. "Support his neck." His voice matched hers - soft and melting in a way that used to be embarrassing. 

"I know how to hold a baby, Mister Stark." 

"He's not going to break." Except he could. So easily. But not by her. Never by her. 

It was silent then, save for Rhodey chattering on the phone to his mother about his new favorite nephew. He had dubbed himself godfather immediately after naming him, citing Peter's shared name. In the past week, though, he hadn't held back from teasing Tony about the sappy choice for middle name. "Oh, he's perfect." Pepper said after a moment. 

"Yeah he is." Tony agreed reaching around the other side of her in an imitation of a hug to try and wiggle Peter's hands back into the mittens on his pajamas. The newborn put up as much of a fight as he could, which was pretty admirable and left a small scratch on Tony's palm. 

"I'm still mad at you." She didn't sound mad.

He knew she was though. "Yeah you are." 

\----

“Babies can’t fly.” Tony emphasized once more as though Pepper and Rhodey hadn’t already heard it from him twenty times over in the past hour. 

“Yeah, we know.” Rhodey threw a stuffed animal into the air and caught it after it bounced back from the roof and almost smacked him in the face. 

Obie had called. He hadn’t been excited about the news, to put it lightly. Tony had been ranting ever since hanging up on the old man. Peter hadn’t appreciated it yet, if the way he kept slapping Tony’s face with his mittened hands was any indication, but Tony refused to let him go. Holding him was the only thing keeping Tony from diving to the mini-bar and drinking his way through all the little bottles there. They were cute, Peter was cuter. 

“I’m not giving him up.” 

“No one’s asking you to.” Pepper insisted from the armchair, her heels kicked off by the door. She had left to get them lunch when Obie had called, and was typing away on her phone insistently ever since she had gotten back in the middle of Tony’s rant. Rhodey had hopefully perked up at her when she had come in but had quickly deflated when she instead got that storming angry look on her face and listened in angry silence until this very moment. Peter also tried to swivel his head to her but clocked Tony in the chin instead and almost started to cry if Tony hadn’t shushed and bounced him. “I’m handling it.” 

“Thank you.” Tony was looking at his son when he said it, Peter’s hand no longer scratching his chin but just simply resting over his stubble, his forehead pressed against Tony’s lips. He had spoken it into his skin, his eyes wide and nose flaring as he breathed in Peter’s warm clean smell. 

He couldn’t give him up. He wouldn’t give him up. 

Not like Mary did. 

“How long until he can fly?” Rhodey asked after a pause, tossing the bear in the air again and catching it once more. 

“Two weeks.” Tony said into Peter’s skin again. “I think.” 

“Are you ready for that?” 

“Never will be.” 

Tony had thought about it a few days ago late at night, counting the seconds between Peter’s little puffed out breaths and Rhodey’s long and loud snores. He had thought about how easy it would be to stay in New York, how much better it would be to move to Massachusetts right outside of Cambridge where he had gone to college. Thought about how nice it would be to show Peter the changing leaves and apple picking in the fall. But then Rhodey had let out an even louder snore and snapped him out of it. 

Tony was trying to be responsible now - for Peter’s sake - and restarting a life and abandoning what the one thing his father had left him wasn’t exactly a move of a good role model. Hopefully, when Peter grew up, he would look up to Rhodey more than him - look up to Pepper more than either of them. Hopefully his son wouldn’t try to model his life over Tony’s messed up one. 

“He’s going to hate flying.” Rhodey huffed when the bear smacked his nose. 

Peter squealed like he agreed with the sentiment. Tony smiled into the soft, baby forehead, successfully distracted from the thoughts swirling just moments before. “Happy’s going to bring the jet.” 

“So no one else will have to hear him screaming.” 

“Exactly.” 

Pepper scoffed softly. “Stop hogging him.” She tossed down her phone and grabbed for Peter. Tony turned him away with a sharp move of his hips. 

“He’s my baby.” 

“You’ve held him for the last hour.” 

“He’s my baby.” 

“Tony.” 

“Not now, Miss Potts.” Rhodey interrupted and Tony could kiss him if he wasn’t already humming Peter to sleep in his arms. He was a comfortable weight that Tony didn’t even know he was missing until he had first held him. “We’ll keep passing him around when Tony’s had his fill.” Tony didn’t say anything, but he was sure he would never have his fill. The weight of him was intoxicating. The baby soft skin was something he never dreamed he would want to feel for more than a second. 

Tony could feel Peter’s eyelashes flutter shut against his chin, a small huff of breath against his neck as he slipped into dreamland. 

Get rid of it, Obie had said. Mistakes happen. 

Tony could have cried, looking over at Peter squirming away in Rhodey’s arms as he fed him, his little feet kicking at his best friend’s chest. 

No, Tony promised into baby soft skin with a kiss, he would never have his fill. 

\-----

Bringing Peter on a plane was single-handedly the worst experience of Tony’s life. And he had had plenty of worst experiences. 

Happy hadn’t glared but he hadn’t exactly smiled when Tony boarded the plane with a baby strapped to his chest, a dark green cap with dinosaurs covering the perfect baby ears from any sort of air chill. Peter had been asleep then so he hadn’t exactly met Happy until they had lifted off and he had opened his mouth to let out the worst, most heartbreaking, and a little annoying scream cries Tony had ever heard. 

He should have brought ear plugs. 

Happy twitched from his seat across from him, Peter’s screams tampering off into silent painful squeals. Tony’s heart was breaking, his baby boy’s little face red and blotchy, his little mitten covered hands reaching up to try and slap himself in his ears. “Shh, little one, shh.” He bounced Peter again, ignoring the green seatbelt sign that had just turned on and pacing the length of the cabin. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice was twinging on hysteria and he wanted to cry himself. Wanted to scrunch up his face and match Peter’s near silent whimpers of pain. “You’re okay. Daddy’s got you.” 

“Boss.” Happy sounded hysterical where Tony sounded… well not put together. 

“Not now, Hogan.” Tony snapped, panic unfortunately bleeding through his words. 

“The seatbelt light, boss.” 

“The baby, Hogan.” 

Peter had little tear tracks down his cheeks, but his mittened hands stopped slapping at his ears and were, instead, reached out to insistently pet at Tony’s stubble. “His ears probably just popped.” Happy supplied unhelpfully. 

“No shit, Hap.” Tony bounced Peter some more, pressing the softest kiss to Peter’s temple. “I’m sorry your ears hurt, baby.” 

He swore to himself the moment Peter started screaming that he would never bring him on a plane ever again. It was clear Peter hated it. 

Peter squeaked as though protesting the reality of Tony’s apology but he had stopped screaming and Happy had approached cautiously like the baby would suddenly burst into flame with a wet napkin to clean off his rosy cheeks. Tony hadn’t reached out to grab the napkin which forced Happy to wipe off the salt-water himself, his hand shaking and Peter’s little hand batting at his as though to push him away. “You’re okay.” Happy said so soft that Tony was almost sure he didn’t hear it. “Little Boss.” He murmured with a smirk over his shoulder to Tony. 

Tony could have cried, but he didn’t, instead pressing his smile back into Peter’s smoothed out forehead, Peter pressing open mouthed kisses onto Tony’s stubble, his tongue flicking out and in as though to taste the air. “Thanks for that, bud.” Tony snorted and grabbed onto of Peter’s little hands in his own. “I forgive you too, by the way. For screaming in my ear.” 

The other hand slapped him in the face, Peter’s face scrunched up in insult. 

“Yeah, okay.” Tony agreed. “I owe you more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was your favorite part? 
> 
> What do you want to see next?


	3. A Month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy chapter three. 
> 
> I'm officially calling this my Writing Challenge to Channel All My Wanting to be a Mom Feels. 
> 
> Enjoyyy. We'll get a plot sometime, I'm sure.

Three

It was around three weeks later that Tony had his first Peter related nightmare. He was crying just like he had been on the plane - those same damn cries that tore him apart from the seams and threatened to give him a heart attack. Tony couldn't see him, couldn't see anything other than darkness, and couldn't hear anything but his baby scream crying. And he had started running towards where he thought it was coming from - sprinting and nearly crying himself until he fell off the armchair he had fallen asleep in and face planted into the carpet. 

He laid there for a moment, his heart pounding against his ribcage dangerously fast and then scrambled to his feet when he realized that Peter was actually crying on the other end of the baby monitor. The TV had gone black - JARVIS must have turned it off - which meant the room was now black too. Half asleep Tony didn't even think to tell him to turn the lights on, which he soon regretted after kicking his toe onto the corner if Peter's pack and play. Cursing under his breath he kept going, stepping into the hallway and blinking at the motion lights that immediately splashed on. 

The door to Peter's nursery was open, and Tony half expected a monster to be huddled over his crib. Instead, though, his dinosaur night light was shining bright against the wall, and JARVIS helpfully turned on the overhead lights on the dimmest setting when Tony stepped in. "Hey, hey, hey." Tony rushed over, blinking the sleep from his eyes and counting the moments before Peter's big brown eyes locked on him. He had big fat tears rolling down his cheeks and he looked so damn pitiful that Tony couldn't help himself. "Oh Pete."

Peter was soft in his arms, his little body shaking with small whimpers. His nails dug into Tony's bare shoulder, his wet eyelashes brushing against his neck. "What's wrong, piccolo?" Tony bounced him, shushing in that way he used to find obnoxious. He patted Peter's bum, checking for a full diaper but revealed nothing. "So not that, huh?" 

Tony tried to pull his baby away from his shoulder, looking him in the face with a hand cradling his head that Peter was trying so hard to hold up himself. But it seemed like all the little strength Peter had was being put into holding onto Tony's shirt, his other hand opening and closing around the skin of Tony's neck - as though looking for something else to hold onto. "Okay, piccolo, okay." Tony sighed, his heart rate calming down with a long exhale. He reached into the crib to grab the blanket Mrs. Rhodes had sent two weeks ago that Peter was inseparable from, a circus of animals hand stitched into the border. 

Tony draped the blanket over Peter's trembling body, the Malibu mansion quieter than it used to be at two in the morning. "What's wrong with him, JAR?" He asked the always attentive AI. 

"While I do not have any experience in childcare, Mister Stark, I would say Little Stark had a night terror." 

"You too, huh?" Tony shouldered his way into the master bedroom, slumping down onto the bed sheets. 

Peter just whimpered back. 

Tony took it as agreement. 

"Don't worry, tesoro. Daddy's got you." He laid back, Peter's blanket over his scrunched up little body, Tony's hand pressed into his back. "Only if you watch over, Daddy too, okay?" Tony lifted his baby to look at his face, one of Peter's fists in his mouth and the other clutching the corner of his blanket and reaching for Tony's face. 

His kid was too cute. 

Tony kissed the baby fist. "And we tell no one about this, okay?" Peter's hand came out of his mouth and slapped his baby spit on Tony's cheek. "Yeah, okay kid, spit pact." 

It was cute and disgusting but Tony couldn't bring himself to care because Peter was smiling at him. 

His baby. 

Smiling. 

That was the first time he had done that. 

It was gummy and he had a line of drool attached to his finger tip but his big brown eyes squinted like Tony's did when he smiled and his nose wrinkled just a little bit over the freckles and Tony couldn't help but smile back. 

"There you are, tesoro." If Rhodey could hear him now it would be so embarrassing. "There's my Peter." 

Peter squealed, his smile seemingly growing bigger, the fist with the blanket in his mouth instead. "Feeling better, huh?" Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead and placed Peter back onto his chest. He could feel Peter's tongue tasting the blanket, brushing against his shoulder blade every now and then, his big eyes blinking up at Tony's face. "You're instant nightmare repellant, I swear." Tony chuckled a bit despite himself, joy still gripping tight at his heart. "We should sell some of that." 

\----

Rhodey arrived at the Malibu mansion precisely twenty minutes before Obadiah Stane dropped in unannounced with entirely too many beach toys that a four week old baby couldn't even use. Tony had just fed Peter and was tinkering on a design for a missile on his Stark pad, had a spoon full of cereal hanging from the corner of his mouth, and was watching Peter gnaw at his own fist again out of the corner of his eye. "We're going to the beach." Rhodey announced over JARVIS' introduction. 

Tony jumped, the spoon clattering into the bowl with a metallic clang splattering milk over the counter. Peter made a noise Tony interpreted as concern and smiled that goofy smile of his when Rhodey leaned over him to coo. "Christ, Rhodes." 

"Aww did you save your first smile for your favorite uncle?" Rhodey's finger tickled Peter's chin. 

"He does that now." Tony gladly took away his friend's glory, wiping off his counter with Peter's spit up covered burp cloth. "Started last night." 

"Nah, those were just gas." Rhodey teased the baby some more. "Weren't they, Petey." 

Peter kicked his legs and reached out for him in what Rhodey happily took as agreement and Tony took as betrayal. "Rude." He mumbled but smirked when Rhodey happily unbuckled Peter from his carrier and picked him up to rest on his chest. "You're corrupting my child." 

"You don't need help with that." Rhodey snarked back, happily letting Peter gnaw on his fingers. 

Everything in the mouth. If Tony didn't know any better he would say his son had an oral fixation. 

"Get changed." Rhodey ordered. "We're bringing Petey to the beach." 

"That is a horrible nickname." 

"It's better than Baby Stark." 

"It's better than Baby Stark." Tony mimicked in a high voice but did it anyway, scoffing a laugh when he heard Rhodey mimic him back in a softer tone obviously directed at the baby. 

It took Tony longer than it should have to change, half that time was spent staring at the cough syrup in the medicine cabinet and contemplating the harm of downing the whole thing. But Tony had contingencies set up in case he had those thoughts - mainly the picture of Peter that he had taped to the corner of the glass. 

Tony walked out when Obadiah arrived. 

"Mister Stark, Mister Stane is here." JARVIS announced just a moment before Obadiah burst into the home, his stupidly expensive handmade Italian leather shoes slapping on the wood floor. 

Tony flinched. Just a little. 

Rhodey helpfully held Peter just a little bit tighter and moved to stand just a little bit off to the side of Tony. He appreciated it. 

Obie's beard was longer, his hair a little bit more grey and his eyes that fake happy he did so often Tony was almost tricked into believing it. "Tony!" He sounded happy to see him. But Tony wasn't buying it. He could still remember Obie's voice over the phone. 

Mistake, he had called Peter. Tony almost wanted to watch him fall in love with the baby boy like everyone else but Peter seemed inclined to lean away from the older man if the way he whined and pushed his body farther into Rhodey's shoulder was any indication of how he was feeling. "Sh, shh, Petey." Rhodey murmured softly, bouncing the baby just a little on his hip. 

Obie's eyes flickered to Rhodes and the baby in his arms, hardened for a moment and then shot back to Tony. "Tony." He sounded disappointed now.

Tony would have hated it before, but now Peter simply whined as though insulted that anyone could be disappointed in his father. Tony's lips almost twitched into a smile. "Hey, Obie." He shifted a bit closer to Rhodey. His friend noticed. Tony's shoulder almost blocked Peter from view. "I didn't know you were visiting." 

"I didn't know you were back." 

"So you, what? Just walk into my house when I'm not here?" 

It was tense. Awkward. 

Tony dared him to do something. 

Obadiah cleared his throat. "So… this him?" 

"Who?" Tony played dumb. He felt Peter's hand reach out and snag the collar of his shirt. Tony took his weight obligingly, smiling at his little scrunched up concerned face. Rhodey stayed where he was, body tense and ramrod straight. 

"Colonal." Obadiah nodded in greeting. 

"You've met Rhodey before." Tony kissed Peter's cheek, the baby's hand tracing Tony's stubble with tiny nails. "Hey, mimmo." 

Peter smiled that gummy smile of his. 

Tony knew what he looked like. Knew his eyes melted and scrunched at the corners as he smiled back. Peter's forehead swayed into his own, his eyes fluttering against Tony's chin and his hand that held Tony's collar going back in his mouth, taking Tony's shirt with it. 

"So you decided to keep it?" Obadiah asked after a long moment of observation. 

"Obie, this is Peter James Stark." Heir to the company, Tony wanted to say but held back. 

"Where's its mother?" 

"Peter's mother is out of the picture." 

"And-?" 

"Everything is taken care of." 

"You've thought this through?" Obie stressed. "You know what this is going to do to your image? To the company?" 

"Don't care." Tony shrugged. 

It was silent. He could feel Obie fuming at his dismissal. Rhodey stayed tense. Peter kept pressing gummy, wet tongue kisses to Tony's neck. "Well… can I hold him?" 

Tony pried Peter away from him for a moment but the moment Obie's hands closed on his son Peter turned and spit up all down Obie's three thousand dollar suit. 

Rhodey gagged on a laugh. 

Tony pursed his lips to hide a smile. 

Peter blinked and smiled around the white spit up dripping from his chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone that left kudos and comments on the last two chapters. I love and adore you all. 
> 
> Why is Rhodey in this so much, you may ask. My answer: because I want him to be. And the Tony/Rhodey friendship is horribly underrated and I love it so much. 
> 
> Anyway... Favorite part? Ready for chapter four aka The Chapter of Sick?


	4. Two Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sick baby

Four. 

Peter started sneezing after dinner one day. They were small pathetic sniffs that preceeded the biggest headbanging sneeze Tony had ever seen. Peter had managed to propel himself forward with the force and almost off the couch. Tony saw it happen in slow motion and moved at that inhuman speed only parents have. He caught Peter before he hit the floor, sweeping him up and into his arms so fast he shocked himself. 

But Peter didn't cry about that. No, Peter took that in stride. Peter started wailing when he sneezed again and whacked his head so hard into Tony's that he saw stars. "Shit, kid." 

Peter whailed even louder. 

"Okay. Okay." Tony kissed his forehead and held his entire head in the palm of his hand. "Daddy's sorry, mimmo, Daddy's sorry." He spoke the words in Peter's forehead and counted the seconds until the cries tampered off into sniffles. "I know, mimmo, I know." 

He stood on the balcony, Peter securely in his arms, timing his breaths to the breaking waves. He had his thumb in his mouth when Tony glanced down at him, his big brown eyes blinking past the tears still pooled there. "There you are." Tony waved the finger Peter had a tight grip on. "Look at the waves. You like the waves, Pete." 

Rather than answer, Peter favored snuggling his head even farther into Tony's shoulder in what Tony liked to think of as an imitation of a hug. His head fell on Peter's, the warm summer wind brushing against his cheeks and drying the tears that had fallen from Peter's chin. 

The morning after Peter pushed away the bottle Tony tried to give him with a frustrated crinkle of his nose. 

Halfway through the day Peter started to cough so much it made Tony's lungs rattle. 

By seven in the afternoon Peter hadn't laid down for a nap, hadn't eaten more than half a bottle, and had been crying for the last hour. Tony didn't know how much parenthood had taken a hold of him until he started begging his child for a diaper filled with crap. 

He had called the doctor, checked Peter's temperature periodically, and had started crying with him by nine. 

It ended with an irritable Happy sitting next to him in the ER, an empty baby carrier beside him as Tony paced the length of the waiting room trying to get Peter to at least sleep. 

Tony wasn't a stranger to worry. His best friend was constantly being shipped overseas. He ran a multi-billion dollar company. He had lost his parents at eighteen. But, all things considered, him and Peter hadn't really had a real emergency yet. Sure there were moments of fumbling but Tony thought he was doing okay. Peter was in the healthy percentile for weight, he was growing at a steady speed, his pediatrician even said that he was picking things up faster than most babies did. But he wouldn't eat all day. He wouldn't sleep. He just kept crying. 

And he had a fever of 100.1. 

"Bring him to the ER." The on call nurse had said over the phone. "It's probably just a cold but he's under three months and his temperature shouldn't be that high. We'll set up an appointment with his pediatrician in a few days." 

Useless. 

Tony felt useless. 

"I'm so sorry, Peter." He mumbled into his baby's small tuft of brown hair. 

Peter whined and grabbed at his chin, his noises high and nasal. He coughed with his tongue out against Tony's shoulder. "I know, mimmo. I know." Tony pat his back, a lump in his throat. "You don't feel good, I know." 

"What's taking them so long?" Happy was in his pajama pants and, hilariously, had a blazer thrown over a spaghetti sauce stained Stark Industries t-shirt. His hair was sticking up in every direction and glasses hung off his nose. He was annoyed, Tony could tell. Not at Tony and the situation they were in, per say. At least Tony didn't think so. 

"Triage." Tony shushed Peter as his whines turned into cries once more, loud and piercing in the near quiet room. 

A woman shot them a dirty look. "He's sick!" Tony snapped at her huff. "It's not like he can tell you what's wrong!"

She glared in response. 

"Bullshit." Happy scoffed. "What's more important than a sick kid?" 

"Everyone else, apparently." Peter's nose was running. "Give me a tissue." 

Happy reached out to oblige, Peter's little hand swiping his middle finger to hold onto tightly. The head of security melted. 

Even sick, Peter was the cutest thing Tony had seen. "Let me wipe your nose, baby." Tony sounded miserable even to his own ears, Peter stubbornly turning his head away from the tissue. "You gotta help me out here, Pete." He nuzzled his head into the crook of Tony's neck, crying softly with his mouth open. 

"It's okay, Little Boss." Happy mumbled from over Tony's shoulder. "Uncle Hap's going to fix this." He made eye contact with the baby over Tony's shoulder. 

"Uncle Hap?" Tony blinked. 

Happy flushed. "I'm going to talk to them." He tugged his finger from Peter's grip, guiltily turning away when Peter cried from the loss. "I'll be right back." 

Tony nodded, bouncing the little boy in his grip. 

Miraculously, it worked. 

The nurse had to pry Peter out of Tony's arms but they let him stay in the room the whole time. He looked so small in the crib-like box they put him in, a scary amount of wires popping out of his little arms. He kept trying to pull at them and Tony's heart broke at every blink of big brown eyes begging him to pick him up. 

"I'm so sorry, Pete." Tony whispered to his child, his hand resting on Peter's belly. He counted the seconds between the rise and fall of his chest, listened to the steady beat of the heart monitor. 

"Mister Stark?" It was the ER nurse from before, softly knocking on the door to their room with a chart in her hands. 

Tony hummed in response, his eyes locked on Peter's. 

She smiled a little. "Doctor Yates would like to speak to you." 

It was a melding of moments, then, when the doctor came in. He was an older man with long grey sideburns, a bit on the heavier side but with kind eyes. He had checked Peter's vitals, told Tony how they planned on bringing down his temperature and wanted to keep him overnight. 

And then came the bombshell. 

"Does anyone in your family have a history of asthma?" The doctor asked, not looking up from the chart he was scribbling on. 

Tony froze and looked away from Peter for the first time. 

"No." 

"On his mother's side perhaps?" 

"I…" Tony looked back at his baby, Peter's big brown eyes blinking at him in question. "I… Don't know. She…." 

Doctor Yates sighed. "Would you let us run some tests?" 

"Will it hurt him?" 

"No." The Doctor laughed a little. "It'll be painless for him." 

Tony nodded. "Where do I need to sign?"


	5. Two Months Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I'm posting this late today. So sorry, guys! 
> 
> Anyway - I know absolutely nothing about infant asthma. I just pretend to. 
> 
> TW - brief discription of a panic attack and a small moment of leaving a child by themselves.

Five. 

Three days later, Peter was sent home with a normal body temperature, a big gummy smile, a whole bunch of babbling, way too many Get Well Soon balloons, a new stuffed monkey that basically lived in his mouth, a new pediatrician, and a prescription for QVAR. Tony hadn't caught more than five hours of sleep every night and had made friends with a scary amount of nurses that brought him coffee in the morning. Pepper had spent the majority of her time beside them, cancelling meetings left and right and pestering Tony into eating at least a bagel every day. Rhodey had insisted on video calling Peter since he was overseas doing god knows what, Tony's phone getting covered in an unholy amount of saliva in the two hours they were "chatting". Mostly Peter had stuffed the corner of the phone in his mouth and Rhodey had read Winnie the Pooh. 

Happy had stood guard outside of Peter's room the whole time, glaring at anyone that tried to get in without the proper hospital badges.

It was Obie who had sent the stuffed monkey - along with a horrendous bouquet of diapers that were all way too big for the two month old. Tony had sent a thank you text anyway, with a picture of the monkey's head in Peter's mouth just because it was cute. Obie hadn't answered, but Tony hadn't expected him to. 

With the asthma prescription came a face mask and a thirty page instruction manual. Peter looked healthier, at least. Even if he did still have the last remaining dregs of a cold. 

Tony hadn't noticed it before, the unhealthy blue tinge to Peter's lips that the ER doctor had noticed almost right away. His pediatrician hadn't noticed either, which hadn't bode well for Tony. He had removed Peter from her office quickly and, instead, took the highly rated, ridiculously expensive one Pepper had found on short notice. He seemed like a nice guy when he visited, but so had Peter's other doctor. 

Tony placed Peter's carrier on the counter, leaning over him on his forearms with a long, drawn out sigh. 

"Hey, mimmo." Tony tickled his cheek, Peter's big brown eyes blinking up at him and that gummy smile wide on his face. "You feeling better?" 

It was the first time in three days that they were alone and, honestly, Tony was freaking out a bit. He hadn't even noticed that Peter was slightly blue, how could he be trusted to keep this baby alive? Alone? Tony could barely take care of himself! 

His eyes were dry with exhaustion. "I've already messed this up so bad." He ducked his head over Peter's body, his hand pressing into that space between his eyes. "I'm not cut out for this, Pete." 

A small, baby sized hand slapped his nose and Tony looked up. Peter's forehead had a small furrow, his eyes glittering dangerously. 

Tony felt his heart in his throat. 

Maybe it was exhaustion. 

Maybe it was a mix of… Everything. 

Either way, Tony took a long, deep breath, felt his own eyes well up, and turned his back on his baby and faced the empty liquor cabinet with something like urgency. Two months and fifteen days. That was all it took for Tony to fuck up this whole fatherhood thing.

He should have known he would be horrible at this. 

Everyone else did. 

Peter had started whimpering and Tony walked farther away, his heart hammering in his chest. 

His phone flashed, his smiling face and glittering eyes as he leaned over the changing table and tickled Peter's belly lighting up the screen. Obie's name was there too. 

Mistake. 

Obie had said that once. 

Just some stupid mistake. 

Tony's hands shook and he threw the phone off the balcony, a swear ripping from his throat. 

Who was he kidding? He was never meant to be a father. 

"Master Stark." JARVIS interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

He was just like his own father. Stuck in his own head. Imagining and hoping for things that were never meant to be his. 

He should find Peter's mother. Grandparents. Aunt or uncle or some shit like that. Give him to people who could and would take care of him correctly. Tony would pay for everything, of course. 

"Master Stark." JARVIS interrupted once more. "If you do not answer in another minute I am going to have to call emergency services." 

"What?" Tony blinked and the world rushed back into being. Waves crashed against the sand and pulled his phone out into the ocean, he could hear the crowd from the boardwalk and a loud, yelling cry.

"Little Master is in distress.' 

"What?!" Tony tripped over his own two feet, catching himself on the open door behind him and rushing back into the mansion. 

He could hear Peter now, crying at the top of his still sick lungs. All Tony could picture was that video the doctors made him sit through to explain infant asthma - the little lungs that sucked in so hard you could see the ribs. He stepped on a squeaky toy, his heart pounding in his ears and his own breath coming in sharp painful bursts. 

Peter's eyes seemed almost incapable of any more tears, his mouth open wide in a wail, his cheeks as red as the apple Tony had eaten an hour before. "Hey, hey, hey." He rushed over to the carrier, hastily unclipping Peter's tiny body and pulling him close to his chest. "You gotta breathe, baby, you gotta calm down." 

Peter only seemed to wail louder. 

Tony almost started wail himself. 

"Sh, sh, sh." He bounced Peter in his grip, panic clawing at his throat. "Daddy's here, mimmo, daddy's here." 

It was a whimper, then, more than a wail, his face pushed in tight to Tony's neck. "I'm sorry I'm so bad at this, Pete." 

Peter whined, high in his throat, his left hand reaching up to bat at Tony's cheek. "I'm so sorry, baby." 

Unknown to him he had started crying too, his own tear tracks matching those on Peter's cheeks. He was just tired, Tony told himself. And horribly overwhelmed. 

It took an hour to calm Peter down and get him to smile again. An hour, endless tears on Tony's cheeks, ten minutes toying with the inhaler face mask to get it to work well enough to give Peter his dose before laying him down. 

Peter had all but insisted on not letting Tony go, his hands balled into fists of Tony's shirt. He was breathing softly through his mouth, drool to the right of his mouth and his head over Tony's shoulder. Tony was laying down himself, his heart in his throat and his hand resting on Peter's back. 

How could he have thought of giving this up? 

"I'll never do that again, baby." He promised to a baby that couldn't even understand what he was saying. "I promise I'll never, ever leave you again."


	6. Three Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's shorter than the last few but so much happier than the last chapter. 
> 
> No trigger warnings this time. It's just pure fluff.

Six. 

Tony was seeing a psychiatrist. Rhodey had insisted after Tony had told him over breakfast and orange juice how he felt about being a father. Pepper had found the guy, said he came highly recommended, and sent over the paperwork not an hour later. Tony had hated it at first. But then he had not freaked out when Peter had cried himself into needing his inhaler any more than a normal parent should have and decided the psychiatrist was probably a thing he should have done a long time ago. 

With the psychiatrist, though, came going back to work. Which came needing a nanny and a security team for Peter himself since Tony would be taking Happy with him. 

So far literally no one impressed him or Peter. 

Peter was sitting on Tony's lap, a comfortable weight on his thigh and against his chest. He had sprouted more hair at the beginning of the month, stray curls poking up at random spots no matter how much Tony tried to comb them down. He had gained some weight and learned to hold his own head up and Tony thought he was starting to make noises that would one day shape words. Peter was gnawing at his foot, holding it in place with one hand, the other one holding onto Tony's finger tightly. It was a surprising display of flexibility and agility. His baby was going to be a gymnast. 

"This is the last day of interviews, Mister Stark." Pepper tapped her pen on the table, her hair up in a high ponytail on top of her head. She had shown up in a light blue blouse, but Peter had accidentally spilled coffee all down the front and she had to change into a wine red one. Tony preferred the red. 

"Thank god." Tony waved the hand Peter held onto in victory, the baby smiling around his toes. 

Pepper's lips twitched into a smile. At the baby. Not at him. "So we have to choose someone." She carried on. 

"I can just bring Peter everywhere with me." Tony suggested for what might have been the fortieth time, if the way Pepper rolled her eyes at him was any indication. "Peter wouldn't mind." 

"I'm pretty sure the shareholders will." 

"Then we get new ones." 

"Mister Stark." 

A knock interrupted Tony from saying anything more. "Be nice." Pepper warned him and tickled Peter's cheek on the way to the door. 

The woman that walked in was gorgeous, in a homey way. Big round hippie glasses, wide legged dress pants, and light green dress shirt with a small stain on her sleeve. Her hair was long, past her shoulders and in a braid down her back. "Miss Potts?" She asked even though she knew the answer. 

"Miss Reilly, I assume?" They gripped hands, Pepper's larger than hers but not by much. 

"Please, call me May." 

"Well then you can call me Pepper." Tony knew that voice. Knew Pepper was already impressed. 

Her opinion meant a lot, but Peter's meant the most. Rhodey had laughed when Tony had told him the vetting process. "You're never going to find anyone." Rhodey had said. 

"That's the plan." Tony agreed smugly. 

He was almost completely sure Pepper knew what he was doing. But it was okay. Him and Peter had a plan. 

"This is Mister Stark," Pepper dragged him out of his thoughts, walking up beside him to introduce the two of them. 

"I'd shake your hand but," he wiggled the baby fists holding both of his. 

"And this is Peter." Pepper had that voice that warned Tony not to scare someone away by being rude. 

Tony would have been insulted if that wasn't exactly what he was doing. 

"Hello, Peter." May Reilly wasn't the first nanny hopeful to kneel down to be at Peter's level. She was, however, the first to look at Tony for permission first. "You're so handsome." 

"He gets that from me." 

"No, that's all him." 

Color him impressed. She hadn't even looked up at Tony once but she had a smirk on her lips that told Tony she knew exactly what she was doing. 

It was working. 

"So it says here that you're a student?" Pepper asked from her seat beside Tony, rustling through papers in a manila folder. 

"Yes for nursing." May continued, offering her hand to Peter who didn't look up at Tony for permission before grabbing it with his own. She smiled and waved it, the baby smiling his signature gummy smile. "Not to toot my own horn but I actually did a project on infant asthma in my junior year." 

She was young and had only worked at restaurants before.

Peter didn't seem to care, though, letting go of Tony completely and leaning his whole weight forward until May picked him up and out of Tony's lap. She was dressed to impress but she didn't hesitate to sit on the floor and let Peter stand on her thighs. 

It was a ringing endorsement. 

"So tell us about yourself." Pepper prompted. 

"When can you start?" Tony asked at the same time. 

\----

"We had a plan." Tony reminded Peter petulantly. "You weren't supposed to like anyone so Daddy could get out of doing work."

Peter had just finished eating, the front of his shirt a mess because Tony had forgotten a bib. Tony was on the floor, a wet wipe in his hand. He sighed. "You're a mess, kid." 

Peter laughed. 

Peter laughed. 

Tony froze, the wet wipe falling from his hand. 

Peter laughed even harder. 

It was… it was like when Tony had created DUM-E. When he first heard JARVIS' voice over computer speakers. When Peter had first cried. 

No… it was greater than that. 

"You… That…" Tony laughed in disbelief himself. "You think that's funny, bud? Your betrayal." 

Peter's giggles picked up once more, his body rocking forward and then back again. 

"Or are you laughing because daddy has to clean you up?" 

Peter laughed so hard he fell forward and off the couch. 

Tony caught him around the waist, swinging him up and into the air, Tony falling onto his back. "Daddy's got you!" 

He ignored the frantic pounding of his heart, mentally doing the mathematics on how exactly to put up barriers on all things Peter would be. His baby had a habit of throwing himself off high things.

Peter laughed again, his fist in his mouth and brown eyes narrowed. His little body shook in mirth. 

"JARVIS." 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Save this." 

"Already done, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby laughs cure all. 
> 
> #MayParkertotherescue 
> 
> Any guesses on Peter's new head of security?


	7. Four Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> If you guessed Ben, you were right! 
> 
> Thanks for your kudos and comments, loves. I appreciate you.

Benjamin Randal Parker was all of Rhodey's worst qualities blended into Obadiah's best. He was brash, disapproving, kept things way too close to his chest, silently judgemental, and loud where Happy was soft. He shook Tony's hand too hard, made eye contact that Tony couldn't break, smirked in an insufferable way when Pepper was berating Tony for something stupid he said in the conderence room. 

Tony disliked him. 

Peter… loved him. 

Betrayal. It was a cold, cold knife blade. 

He got along great with May the Nanny, though. Which was wonderful, Tony assumed, since Parker literally stood in the corner of every room they were in.

Tony had expected to come home to the same thing - May the Nanny reading Peter to sleep, Parker standing in the corner watching with a smile, and Peter drifting off only once Tony had kissed his cheek in greeting. 

He hadn't expected… Well this. 

"May had to leave early." Parker sounded exhausted. 

Peter could do that to a guy, Tony would know. 

Parker had spit up on his black suit jacket, his layard was missing completely (which Happy would chew him out for, Tony was sure), he had a small but long baby sized nail scratch down the side of his neck, and at least five dirty diapers scattered around the apartment. And Peter… Tony actually laughed when he saw him. 

Peter was wearing a diaper, but backwards. His shirt was all messed up in the buttons. He had dried spit up in his hair and the stickiest baby fingers Tony had ever encountered. When he smiled his gummy smile from tummy time on the floor it was around a chewed up and slightly hairy pacifier that Parker had obviously tied around his shirt sleeve. That meant Peter had lost it more than once and had thrown a humongous fit full of so many tears and so much snot it warranted a bath in the sink. 

"I think you are actually worse at this than I am." Tony shrugged off his bag in the doorway and toed off his shoes. 

Parker scoffed audibly. 

"Why didn't you call?" Tony bent down and lifted Peter under his armpits. Peter's pacifier fell from his mouth and a gummy, baby kiss filled with spit and was more of a lick than anything was pressed to Tony's scruff. He kissed him back and tickled his tummy. "Hey there, piccolo." 

"I had it handled." Parker gruffed out stubbornly. 

Tony rolled his eyes but said nothing else. 

He hadn't gotten a say in Parker's hiring which, really, was ridiculous.

Pepper had kicked him out of interviews after he had pretended to be a kidnapper for three of them and later got each guy fired from their respective agencies for not stopping him from taking his own kid. Rhodey had been placed in the interviews instead which, in hindsight, was probably a better idea. Rhodey could scare each person off but Parker. Rhodey actually liked Parker. 

Tony didn't get it. 

But Parker did his job. 

Peter fussed in his arms restlessly, grabbing at his sunglasses and nearly taking Tony's eye out with them. "Give me those." 

Peter yelled at him. 

"Don't use that tone with me." 

Peter's brow furrowed. He had started to do that lately. Emote. 

Well… emote the bad emotions with things other than crying. 

Tony thought he had inherited his stubbornness along with his good looks. 

Obviously, Peter had also inherited his tendency to be a little shit because the moment Tony put them back on his head, Peter had them back in his hands and had actually poked Tony rather hard in the cheek with the plastic. "What the hell, kid?" Tony wrestled them out of his grip. 

Bad move. 

Peter screamed. 

Parker winced, sympathetically but made no move to help. 

Tony questioned every decision he had made in his life up until this point. 

He couldn't really blame the kid, though. At four months old, Peter had just gotten used to a schedule and a companion that wasn't Tony or Rhodey. And May leaving had honestly messed that all up for him. Sure, Peter didn't seem to mind Parker. Had even smiled at him plenty of times. But Peter didn't trust him enough to fall asleep around him yet and Tony didn't blame him. 

And, you know, he was four months old and it was past his nap time by at least two hours. 

"Please tell me he napped today." Tony shushed his screaming baby, Peter's cheeks growing redder by the moment and tossed the sunglasses at the head of security. Parker didn't even fumble, just caught them with ease. 

"I thought he had." Parker itched at his head sheepishly. "But it was only for like ten minutes." 

"Ugh." Tony groaned and tried to get him to calm down. 

Peter had triggered himself into two asthma panics in the past month with tantrums. His pediatrician said it was nothing to be worried about. Peter was figuring out his lungs and what exactly they could do. 

None of the tantrums had happened in Tony's care. The first time had been with Pepper and Rhodey, who Tony had forced into the infant asthma class with him since they were his only other primary caretakers. The second time had been with May and Obie. May had swooped in gracefully, Obie had stood still as a statue the whole time Tony's baby had started turning blue. Tony had watched that security footage so many times it was burned into his eyes. He had chewed Obie out for it too. Signed him up for the next infant asthma class in the months to follow. 

Regardless, Tony wasn't exactly eager for Peter to tip himself into another one. 

Parker, however, was remarkably prepared. 

He had pulled out the face mask and the ungodly machine attached to it out of god knows where and was observing the situation carefully and with calculating eyes. He was prepared to jump up and into action if necessary and even if Tony didn't personally like the guy he could respect that coming from him. "Calm down, mimmo." Tony rubbed his back in the patterns Peter loved, messed up the little tufts of hair on his head and smoothed his thumb over his cheeks. Peter kicked him in the ribs. It didn't hurt anything but Tony's ego. "You're so tired, huh?" 

Peter didn't argue but rubbed at his eyes, dropping like a sack of potatoes into the safety of his favorite spot on Tony's body. He nuzzled his face into the place between Tony's shoulder and neck, wet eyelashes and big tears still leaking from his eyes. "Pacifier?" Parker offered from the floor. He was holding the blanket from Mama Rhodes in his other hand. 

Tony mouthed a thank you and hummed a soft tune for Peter to hear, leaning down just a bit to take the pacifier first. He guided it into Peter's mouth after a quick run under the faucet to clean off any floor dirt. The moment it was in the crying stopped. 

The silence in the mansion was echoing and Tony welcomed it. He could still hear Peter sucking softly and letting out tiny pants of breath from his nose, but he was calming down. Breathing normal. 

"There you are, Pete." Tony mumbled. "Dim the lights, JAR?" 

The AI complied silently. 

Parker was standing now, and he came over to where Tony stood in the doorway to the balcony. Peter loved the sound of the waves. Tony did too if he were being honest. 

"Here you are, little man." It was soft. Softer than Tony had expected from a head of security. Parker draped the blanket over Peter's body and the baby swivelled his head to look at him. He blinked big, wide eyes and smiled around the pacifer. Parker smiled back.

It made him look younger. Handsome. 

"I'm… going to go clean up." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and Tony nodded. "Have a good nap, Pete. I'll see you soon." 

Peter waved goodbye in a sloppy opening and closing of his hand. 

Tony was amazed. 

The first time he had done that and it wasn't towards him. 

He'd forgive him, he decided, his cheek stop Peter's head and his baby warm in his arms. Just this once, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: month five. Otherwise known as The Great Rolling Disaster.


	8. Five Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Great Rolling Disaster
> 
> Work is hell guys. Adulting is hard.

Tony started bringing Peter in his workshop at five months old. He had installed one of those bright colored jumper things that his kid liked to practice throwing himself around in. Tony had also updated JARVIS with a whole slew of baby appropriate music but if he had to hear Baby Shark one more time he was going to saw off his ears. 

Tony had yet to cause his kid that much mental scarring. He didn't want to start with something so vile and bloody. 

Pepper had suggested Kidz Bop but Peter had literally started wailing the moment a bunch of kids started singing top 20 pop songs and would have thrown himself back and out of the room if he could have. 

Rhodey suggested the Disney soundtrack on repeat and while that had worked Tony had started singing the songs to himself every day. And had started crying whenever "You'll be in My Heart" came on. So he stopped that real quick. 

Obie favored horrible classical music that Peter didn't hate but didn't love and put Tony to sleep. 

Happy didn't care. 

May suggested talk radio. 

Parker had rolled his eyes when Tony asked. 

And Peter… was Tony's child through and through. 

He laughed at Metalica and made noises close to singing along to ACDC. But he also made those same noises to Taylor Swift so Tony didn't quite trust his judgement on music. 

In the midst of the search for Peter's Music, though, his son had taught himself how to roll over. And he took full advantage. 

Tony had not anticipated this. 

Peter was determined to move. Before he rolled he flopped. Now he knew how to move, though he was rolling everywhere. 

Tony could put him on the changing table and Peter would somehow roll his way into his diapers - dirty or clean. He would roll from the living room to the kitchen - Rhodey had almost stepped on him and screamed in a completely unheroic way when Peter rolled his way into the first floor bathroom while Rhodey was using it. Peter almost rolled his way into the ocean, off the balcony, into a pile of dog shit, into a pile of his own shit, and into the trash. 

Tony wasn't sure his heart could handle any more rolling. 

"Wait until he starts crawling." Pepper had advised with an unhelpful laugh that Peter had the gall to mimic during dinner one night. 

"He's just curious." May had soothed. 

"He's running away from you." Parker had chortled. 

Tony didn't like any of those options. 

"If I let you out, you're going to stay put, right?" Tony asked the great bouncing baby in his workshop. Peter had been bouncing angrily for a few minutes now and had thrown his toy dinosaur at Tony six times with scary accuracy. 

Peter only bounced in response, chewing on his fist. 

His shirt had a big drool stain under the pacifier clipped to its corner. He wasn't wearing pants in favor of just his Air Force onesie but they lived in Miami. It was hot. And Tony had absolutely no one to impress at the moment. 

"You gotta promise me you won't roll, Pete." Tony waved his screwdriver at him. 

Peter squawked in response. 

"I don't trust you." Tony moved towards him anyway. "I feel like you're lying." 

Peter tossed his dinosaur at him again, nailing Tony in the nose for the fourth time. 

"This is mine now." Tony stuffed it in his pocket. 

Peter didn't care, though, because Tony had lifted him out of his bouncing prison like he had wanted. May had told Tony not to let Peter out in the workshop if he wouldn't let Parker baby proof it but Tony did what he wanted to most days. And he was a sucker for Peter's puppy dog eyes. 

"Stay here, please." Tony poked Peter's nose, his brown eyes comically going crosseyed to keep it in sight. "And this stays between you and Daddy." 

Peter squealed. 

Tony put him down and went back to work. 

He swore it was only for a second to grab a different tool. 

He turned back and Peter was gone, a drool spot in his wake. 

Tony froze. 

"JAR?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Where's Peter?" 

The AI paused. "The Little Sir is currently moving towards the garage door." 

Which, okay. Cool. Baby located. 

Except the garage was starting to open and Tony could see the tires of the car Happy had left to pick up Rhodey at the airport in. 

"Shit!" Tony dropped the tool and sprinted. 

Peter was making his exit and few inches away from the gravel and tires and this was going to be it. This was the reason why Tony would inevitably kill himself. 

Happy saw him before he saw anything else and the car skidded to an audible squealing stop. 

Tony tripped over his own two feet, his knee slamming into the pavement and jeans tearing. Tony hadn't scraped his knee since he was twelve yet here he was. 

He threw himself in the way of the car, holding Peter's laughing body up in the air for all to see. 

He heard Rhodey and Happy swear. 

He felt his own head slam on the car's bumper. 

But Peter was okay. 

"We had a deal." He told the baby breathlessly. 

Peter squealed a laugh in answer. 

Tony laid on the gravel, blinking up at the afternoon sun. 

"You hate me, don't you?" Tony hugged the baby still, ignoring that Peter kicked against his chest to be let go. "Why? I feed you. I change you. I sing Disney with you." 

Peter yelled and hit his fists on Tony's chest. 

"Nope. We're just laying here now." Rhodey leaned down over him, blotting out the sunlight. "Is he okay?" 

"He looks fine." Rhodey gripped Tony's elbow to pull him upwards. "Are you okay?" 

"No I just had a heart attack." Tony winced as he put weight on his bleeding knee. "He's trying to kill me." 

"He's punishment." Rhodey winked and smirked. "For all that bad shit we did in college."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: month six - or Tony's Encounter with the Ferber Method 
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments.


	9. Six Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing against the Feber method - but really when parenting it's best to do what works for you and your baby.

There was a storm rolling in over the ocean, Pepper and Rhodey had left hours ago, Tony was nursing a glass of chocolate milk like a real adult man, and Peter was screaming his head off in his bedroom. 

"Give him time," the doctor had said. "He has to get used to sleeping in his own bed without you." 

Tony wanted to call bullshit. 

Tony had slept a total of nine hours in three weeks between moments when Peter was awake screaming bloody murder and moments where he had cried himself to sleep. Not for the first time in his life Tony felt like the shittiest human being to ever walk the earth. 

He needed a drink, a hit of any type of drug, or maybe just a few hours of sleep. 

May was mad that Tony was following the doctor's wishes. "No one knows what your baby needs like you do." She insisted, her wide eyes even wider behind her big glasses. Parker had agreed but Tony hadn't even asked him in the first place. 

Obadiah had bought him ear plugs that were sitting just to the right of the sparkling cider Rhodey had brought over to celebrate the new contract Stark Industries had signed with the US government. He had taken the expensive bottle of champagne that Obie had brought with him back to his hotel. Tony wished, not for the first time, that Rhodey had forgotten it. 

"Jarvis how long has it been?" Since Peter started screaming. 

Since Tony had walked out of the bedroom, shut the door behind him, and drank a gallon of milk pretending it was better than nothing at all. 

"Ten minutes, sir." 

Ten minutes. 

Tony hung his head in despair. 

Tony could hear the hiccups through the baby monitor in front of him. Could count the seconds between Peter's ragged breaths. "Daaaaa." 

It gripped his heart and tore into him. 

"Fuck this." Tony threw the glass in the direction of the sink. 

It missed and broke on the wall. 

Peter didn't stop crying when Tony edged open the door and leaned over the crib. He actually seemed more frustrated that Tony dared show his face. 

"Mimmo." Tony sighed, long and deep. "Come here, babe." Peter had gained weight in the last month and his toes were covered in footie pajamas. Peter had stopped screaming, though. Which was good. Tony didn't think his ears could handle much more. 

Peter babbled at him irritably through tears. 

"I know, I know." Tony nuzzled into his cheek. "I'm sorry tesoro." Peter's hand scratched at Tony's face and he sniffled. 

"You need to sleep, Pete." Tony bounced him in his arms. 

Peter's eyes were red and crusty and his lungs stuttered just enough to worry Tony that he was putting himself into an asthma attack. Peter coughed into his shoulder, a big glob of phlegm smearing across Tony's shirt. "I deserve that." Tony still wrinkled his nose and almost gagged when he wiped it off. 

Peter's little hand reached up to trace Tony's cheek. His baby stared deep into his eyes like Tony held all the secrets in the world. "Daaaa." He said with a pout to his voice. 

Tony knew Peter was trying to say words. Knew he had done almost everything else a month before his doctor said he would. His kid was smart. 

A long, drawn out "da" was the closest Peter had ever gotten to a word, yet though. "That's right, Pete. I'm right here." 

"Daaaaaa." 

"It's really the doctor's fault, you know." Tony smoothed his hand down Peter's back. "He told me to." 

"Daaa. Daaaa." 

"You're right you're right. I should have listened to May." 

"Daa daaaa. Daaaaa daaa." 

"Watch your mouth." Tony poked his nose with a laugh. "Want to go to bed now?" 

"Da-da. Da-dah." 

It took Tony entirely too long to realize what had just happened. 

He had placed Peter on his bed, watched his baby roll onto his hands and his knees to try and scoot himself towards the edge and throw himself off, changed out of his shirt and kicked off his jeans before it actually processed. 

Peter was still mumbling to himself, his little butt wiggling in the air. "Da-dah. Da-dah. Da-dah." 

It was like a little mantra. 

Tony lunged for him. 

Peter squealed loudly when Tony spun him around, his feet kicking out at Tony's chest. "What was that, Pete?" 

"Da-dah, da-dah, da-dah."

Tony laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"That's right, mimmo." He tickled Peter's belly until he laughed. 

Tony loved his laugh. 

He loved his smile and his little curls and his big brown eyes. 

He loved Peter even when he was disgusting which, if Tony was honest, was often. 

"I love your voice." 

Tony had started to cry. 

It was horribly embarrassing even if it was because he was running off little to no sleep. 

"Da-dah, da-dah, da-dah." Peter kicked his whole body as he said it. 

"Da-dah, da-dah, da-dah." Tony repeated much to Peter's happiness. 

Tony could hear the echo of his little voice even when Peter was asleep. His onesie covered body was curled up on Tony's bare chest and his breathing was even and soft. He had a tiny snore but, honestly, Tony found it endearing. Any other bed partner and Tony would have kicked them out. 

"JARVIS?" 

"Yes sir?" 

"Could you send that video to Colonel Rhodes?" 

"Already done, sir." 

\---

A week later Tony had given up on the Ferber method. Mostly it was because every time he tried to put Peter to bed he would just say that one word to get him to show back up. 

Rhodey had video chatted Peter for two hours trying to get him to say anything else. 

Peter had pushed the screen harshly away in that stubborn grumpy baby way he liked to do things. 

Rhodey was appropriately offended. 

Peter hadn't called anyone else "da-dah" until Parker came to pick him up on Monday. Him and May were taking Peter to the beach and even though he was security he was dressed a lot more casually than Happy would allow. 

May had handed him Peter while she ran to the bathroom and Tony had only popped back into the kitchen because he had forgotten his briefcase. Parker was playing with Peter, holding him by his hips and pretending that Peter was flying around the room. Peter was laughing loud enough that Tony considered for the eighth time that morning having Pepper cancel all of his meetings and staying home. 

Tony wasn't even supposed to see it or hear it, but Peter had clamped his hands over Parker's shoulders and clear as day giggled out "da-dah". 

"Ha!" Parker laughed with his baby. "Your dad would fire me if he heard that, kid." 

"Da-dah!" 

"Shh, the robot will tell." 

"Da-dah!" Peter yelled louder.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" The laugh in his voice took the bite out of his words. 

Tony felt betrayed for all of a moment, but then Parker slung Peter over his shoulder, his baby caught sight of him and waved. "Da-dah!" 

Tony melted. 

"Love you too, Pete." 

Parker jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Da-dah!" 
> 
> Up next: teething, crawling, no, and Peter's first attempted kidnapping.


	10. Seven Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys it's longer than normal. 
> 
> It's also more serious than normal. 
> 
> TW: infant asthma, panic attacks, shooting and attempted kidnapping

Peter started teething early in November. It was hardly the most stressful time for either of them but that didn't exactly make it easy going. Peter made his distress known loudly and enthusiastically. 

Tony had invested in so many different teethers it was getting a little crazy. He had found three in his shoe the other day and two in his office. Which was crazy since Peter had never been to his office yet. 

The public knew of Peter, had gotten a few pictures that Tony had approved to be released from Pepper and a handful that weren't approved that had almost gotten a few gossip magazines shut down. But Tony didn't want to make his kid grow up in the limelight. At least not until he was old enough to make that decision himself. 

So Tony never brought him to the office, and Happy made sure that no photographers were around when they went out every few days. And, really, Tony owned most of the places they went anyway. 

Still, Peter was teething which meant teething rings were everywhere. 

Tony was not amused. 

He was also not amused with the meeting he was in. 

Pepper had kicked him under the table around ten times so far to get him to pay attention for longer than five minutes at a time. It had yet to work. “And once again, Mister Stark,” Pepper kicked him once more with the sharp toe of her heel as Mister Mustache started talking. Tony didn’t bother sitting up from his slumped position, but he put his phone down for a moment to not look directly at him. “Norman Osborn keeps reaching out to insist on collaborating on a project with you.” 

“Osborn can reach out to me himself.” 

“He has.” Pepper countered dryly. “You keep sending him to voicemail.” 

Tony waved her answer away. “What’s the project, anyway? Some sort of biological weapon?” 

Mister Mustache cringed. “Regardless, we need to answer him sometime.” 

“He’s like a bee,” Tony snorted. “If you ignore him long enough he’ll go away.” 

“Tony.” Pepper sounded unsurprised even if the answer did annoy her. 

Mister Mustache was about to say something when Tony’s phone lit up, Happy’s contact picture flashing. “Hold, please.” Tony held up a finger, leaned farther back in his seat, and hit accept on the screen. “What’s up, Hogan?” 

Pepper looked like she was getting a headache. 

Mister Mustache gawked as though he didn’t understand the gall Tony displayed. He must be new. 

“Boss.” 

Happy could put so much in one word. 

Tony’s feet dropped from their spot on the table. 

“We have a problem.” 

Tony could have sworn his heart stopped. “What is it?” 

Pepper twitched, her hand resting on his forearm and concern on her face. 

“I can’t reach Parker.” Happy explained. 

“Track him.” Tony shot to his feet. “He has one in his phone.” 

“I’ve already tried, boss.” Happy sounded stressed, which wasn’t a good sign for a head of security. “It’s telling me he’s in the middle of the Hudson river.” 

“Did you try May?” 

“Obviously.” 

“And?” 

“Same thing, Mister Stark.” 

“Happy, what are you telling me?” Tony could feel the room swaying around him, his breath coming in quick, short bursts. 

Pepper was making excuses, her hand steady and tight on his arm. It was perhaps the only thing keeping Tony from dropping to the ground in panic. 

“We can’t find Peter, sir.”   
\----

Peter was whimpering and the car was smoking. 

Ben groaned and blinked back into wakefulness. May was yelling for him, her voice frantic and a cut bleeding on her cheek. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” She was shushing Peter as best as she could, reaching from her spot in the passenger seat. “Ben wake up, wake up.” 

She was crying. 

Was it wrong of him to think that, even now, she was strikingly beautiful? 

“M’wake.” He mumbled and assessed his surroundings and injuries. 

His head ached, his eyes were probably turning purple from the airbag, his arm felt broken and his ears were ringing. 

Looking around himself, Ben noticed that they were on a side road, the car pushed over in front of some trees, and a big black GMC cadillac was in front of Ben’s small tinted window Ford escape. 

The doors swung open and Ben knew, from instinct alone, that they weren’t coming out to check on them and apologize. 

“Shit.” He muttered. “May, get Peter and get out.” 

“What?” She was about a moment away from panicking. 

“Now, May!” He unclipped his seatbelt and struggled with the door handle. 

Stuck. 

Of course, it was. 

May crawled into the back of the car and grabbed Peter just as the guns started going off. 

She screamed, Ben swore and Peter started to cry… loudly. 

“Get down, get down!” Ben didn’t have time to look at them but he did anyway. May was crying, her glasses missing from her face, but she had grabbed Peter into her arms and crowded over him with her whole body in the foot of the car. 

Ben flattened himself against the console and turned towards the passenger door. He kicked it open on his back, pulling himself out onto the pavement. Glass was broken on the pavement and he pulled himself around to look at the end of the car. The shooting had stopped for a moment to reload and Ben took that as the opening it was. Popping up, he shot twice, missing once and hitting one of the black clad men in the shoulder. Their body dropped. 

Their partner started shooting again, though so Ben dropped back down, swearing loudly under his breath. 

He could hear his heart beating in time with the sound of May shushing Peter inside the car. He could also hear the screeching of wheels coming up to join the GMC. 

Ben prayed it was the arrival of friends. 

He was wrong. 

“May, get out of here!” He wrenched open the door and pulled her by her ankle to lay next to him. 

“No! Not without you!” She insisted. Ben would have found it sweet if she wasn’t bleeding and clutching a baby to her chest. 

“I’m not important!” He yelled back, popping up to shoot another guy down. “Peter is!” 

The baby reached out towards Ben, then, as though he could sense the goodbye. May hugged him closer. “You better come back safe, Benjamin Parker.” 

Ben smiled a little. “I’ll try.” He pushed the two of them away. “Now, go!” She took off, the baby reaching over her shoulder and yelling in a way that made Ben’s heart break. 

“No!” His little voice screamed. “No! No! No! No!” 

Ben could have cried. 

“Just give us the kid!” The man yelling had an accent and Ben swore as more cars pulled into the area. He was outnumbered and almost out of bullets. 

He glanced behind him, May was halfway into the woods and getting good distance. 

“Well, shit.” Ben took off running after them, covering the two of them with his body and pushing them into a sprint. 

\----

“Where the hell is my kid!” Tony knew no one had an answer for him, but still, his voice seemed to make everyone jump out of their skin. It was the loudest Tony had ever sounded. Happy was on the phone barking out orders to his security team and the police all at once. Pepper was handling the press like a pro and Rhodey was perhaps angrier than Tony was, but was more prepared to deal with stressful situations. 

“We’re working on it, boss.” Happy yelled back. 

Tony knew it was unfair to yell at Happy. Knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault that was in this same room with him, but he also knew that if he didn’t yell at anyone he was going to start yelling at himself. 

“Work faster!” Tony snapped. “I don’t pay you to sit with your thumb up your ass!” 

“Tony, it’s not his fault!” Pepper snapped back, her voice like ice. 

He flinched but didn’t apologize. “Someone get me eyes on Parker!” 

“We found the car!” Rhodey nudged Tony with at least a bit of good news. 

“And?” 

“We’re working on it, Tony.” 

“Work. Faster.” 

Tony felt like he was ready to pull out his own hair. Peter was a few days away from turning eight months old. He had just started mastering how to crawl and held himself up with the help of a table. He laughed with his whole body and had two little teeth starting to peak out. He greeted Tony every time he saw him and waved whenever he left the room. 

Tony would take back everything wrong he had ever done for Peter to be safe. He just wanted his son. Safe. 

\---

“Where are we going?” May tripped over a root, Ben’s grip on her arm unyielding and tight. Peter had stopped crying a while ago but still was whimpering. Ben pretended not to notice the cut on the baby’s forehead or how much his own arm throbbed. 

It was okay. 

This was his job. 

“How’s he doing?” Ben asked instead of giving May an honest answer. 

He didn’t have any clue where they were going, after all. They just had to keep moving. 

“He’s okay, I think.” May had pressed her fingers to Peter’s pulse point a few minutes ago, doing an admiral job of running and counting out his heart beat. “Just scared and a little banged up.” 

“Good, good.” Ben almost slipped off the edge of a hill, his phone tumbling out of his pocket and splashing into the water. 

Oh well, it was broken and couldn’t make phone calls anyway. 

Ben couldn’t hear anyone behind them but he knew that didn’t mean anything. If they stopped whoever the gunmen were could catch them. 

Like hell was he letting that happen. 

\---

“They’re not in the car.” 

“We don’t have a satellite in the area.” 

“Who does?”

“Oscorb.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Tony.” 

“Give me the phone.” 

\---

“Hey, hey.” May bounced Peter on her hip. They had succumbed to fatigue, the three of them walking instead of sprinting now. The baby was breathing, but his breath had developed a dangerous stutter. He was coughing too, small fat tears pulling from the corners of his eyes. “Oh god, you’re okay, Peter you’re okay.” She hugged him close, his little arms wrapping around her neck too. 

Ben put a hand on Peter’s back. “He’s breathing too fast.” He checked his gun, still a full round left in this clip. 

“I know.” May was almost crying herself, blinking her eyes at him and wiping at the cut on her cheek. 

She had applied first aid to Peter first, ripping off the bottom of her shirt to tie around the cut on his forehead. Ben was next, his suit jacket being used to tie up his arm in a makeshift sling. They didn’t have any bandaids for her cheek, but it had stopped bleeding a few minutes into their run. 

Ben wasn’t going to lie - he was worried that if the gunmen didn’t kill them that Peter would just stop breathing all together. And then Stark would kill them. Or Ben would kill himself - it would be impossible for him to forgive himself if anything happened to the baby. 

“Da-dah.” Peter cried into May’s shoulder. “Da-dah no.” 

Ben’s heart was shattered on the ground beneath them. “Shh, buddy, it’s okay.” 

“Da-dah no.” Peter pushed away his hand and stuffed his face into May’s neck. “Da-dah.” 

“Just breathe with me, Peter, please.” May begged, her own breath stuttering to match his. 

Ben pressed a kiss to her forehead, May’s slight body leaning into his as they walked. 

\---

“I will give you anything you want, Norman, just get me my kid back.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

\---

The police found them after three hours of searching. 

They all looked horrible. 

Tony had got there the moment an EMT pushed their way out of the woods, Tony’s lively baby wrapped in a blanket with a mask that took up most of his face strapped over his mouth. 

He fell back against the car for just a moment before running after her. “Mister Stark, wait!” It was too late he was already next to her. 

Peter’s eyes were closed, his cheeks that terrifying shade of blue that Tony had nightmares about and a strip of white t-shirt tied around a cut on his forehead. He had been crying. 

“What’s…?” It was all her could get out before a different EMT shoved him back. 

“He’s breathing.” The EMT told him. “But he needs a hospital fast.” 

Tony nodded clipped. “I’ll… I’m coming.” 

He didn’t wait for permission, climbing up into the back of the ambulance and reaching out for Peter’s tiny cold hand. 

“We’ll find the people that did this, Tony.” Rhodey promised loudly, the doors shutting in his face after his friend’s clipped but decisive nod. 

He’d find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never said it was good. 
> 
> Also heeeey Norman Osborn and hero!Ben ftw. 
> 
> Writing from Ben's POV is hard, guys. 
> 
> Follow me on insta: whenandwhere22. Hassle me to write. Love you lovelies.


	11. Eight Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!!!! 
> 
> The follow up on last chapter. 
> 
> There's a new story I started called "Salvation" that takes place in this same universe after Endgame. Check it out, guys. Lemmie know what you think.

Peter was eight months old when they let him out of the hospital. Tony hadn't slept for an entire week, he had spent more than half his time watching Rhodey yell threats into his phone, had drank so much caffeine he was pretty sure that was what his blood was at this point, and had yelled at so many hospital staff that only his security was to guard the room that people had basically stopped talking to him all together. Peter's forehead needed stitches and his baby needed a mask to pump him oxygen for the first few days. The doctor had said he had almost damaged his lungs beyond repair. That they were lucky they got to him on time. It was unusual for a baby to have such a bad asthma attack but, considering the trauma… the doctors weren't surprised. 

Tony had insisted on paying for May and Parker - Ben's care. May was diagnosed with a concussion and sprained ankle, and Ben with a severe concussion, broken arm, and gunshot wound to his side. "There were a lot of them, Mister Stark." Ben had said to him half woozy. "Trained guys." 

Who would send trained guys after his baby? Tony wanted to demand it of the world. He wanted to find whoever had done this and kill them with his bare hands. 

"Da-dah!" Peter's hands whacking his cheek pulled him out of it. 

"What's up, mimmo?" Tony blinked his face into focus. Peter was sitting on Tony's lap, facing him with a serious look on his little face. It was wrong, Tony thought, that he had to have little sewing stitches on his forehead like he was a doll. 

Peter had been clingier lately and May had whispered that Peter was calling for him in the forest. They were in the workshop because Tony needed to breathe and he couldn't do that with so many windows to see Peter through. 

The news media had been all over the story. Tony had memorized the headlines. 

Cartel Tries to Kidnap Stark Heir!

Heir to the Stark Throne Hospitalized After Attack!

Stark Heir Dead and Replaced with Alien? 

Tony had nightmares about that last one. Not the alien part, no the dead part. In the dream he had rolled over and his baby had been there next to him, barely breathing and begging for Tony to save him. 

"Da-dah!" Peter screeched again. He had bounced back well, all things considered. He mostly wanted to be completely by Tony's side but had also willingly crawled into Ben's lap and cuddled into his chest without hesitation. 

"Sorry, babe." Tony kissed his forehead. "Daddy's just tired." 

Peter kissed him back, gripping both of his cheeks in his tiny, sticky baby hands. Suddenly overwhelmed, Tony blinked back the tears that stung his eyes. "Can daddy just…?" His breath hitched and he wrapped Peter in his arms, his baby nuzzling into his warmth happily. Peter didn't struggle to go free and Tony couldn't help the thought that he was doing exactly what Peter wanted him to. 

\-----

Tony started to feel sick around the second week Peter was home. He had started sleeping with Peter in his bed, the baby somehow always ending up with his head next to Tony's hip. Norman Osborn also started hounding him again by around the same time. 

Rhodey had started staying the night, too. He insisted he felt better knowing where Peter was at all times. Tony didn't think he was lying, but he also knew that Rhodey was keeping an eye on him. Making sure diligently that Tony was handling everything okay. He appreciated it. 

Tony didn't feel okay, though. He was groggy, lethargic, couldn't even bring himself to do anything more than move from the bed to the couch in the workshop. He couldn't focus well enough to tinker, or really even pay much attention to Peter which seemed to be all the baby wanted nowadays. 

Rhodey did what he could between work, Pepper made them dinner every night and selflessly fed Peter is. It was May that brought Tony's attention to how sickly he looked, but it was Ben that pointed out the coincidence in timing. He had been leaning against a wall, his black eyes fading into a soft blue. May had blushed when they made eye contact. Tony pretended not to notice. "Oh come on." Ben said with a scoff. "You need to get yourself checked out." 

"I didn't know you cared." Tony fluttered his eyelashes at him. He did know Ben cared. 

Ben glowered, hefting Peter obligingly into his arms when he tugged on his pants. Peter tried to poke at the bruising but Ben caught his hands with a raspberry. Peter laughed almost immediately. May was cleaning the kitchen from lunch and seemed to literally swoon when Ben smiled back at Peter. "Not about you, maybe." Ben agreed. 

But about Peter. 

That was what was important anyway. 

"Come on now, Parker. I'm growing on you. Like a fungus." 

"You're not my favorite Stark." 

"I'm no one's favorite Stark." 

"Not true!" May threw a dish towel at him. "You're his." 

She pointed at Peter who seemed to get the memo, stretching out his whole body towards Tony. Ben passed him over and made eye contact with Tony. It was uncomfortable. Ben had that sort of look to him that Tony thought could see into his soul. "Your kid almost got kidnapped by trained guys, Tony." He said softly, so as not to startle May or Peter. Peter tugged on Tony's hair, standing happily on his father's thighs. "And now you're getting sick when he just got home." Ben shrugged. "It seems to me that someone is getting a little annoyed you aren't paying them more attention." 

It made Tony's gut churn more than the nausea. 

Ben had a point. 

So Tony made an appointment for himself and, selfishly, asked Pepper to go with him. She held his hand the entire time like an assistant shouldn't and showed him all the pictures Rhodey was texting her from his uninterrupted day with Peter. 

"You have the flu, Mister Stark." A doctor diagnosed with a long sigh. 

"What?" Tony blinked. 

"It's not flu season!" Pepper insisted. 

"I know that, Miss." The doctor raised an eyebrow at her. 

Pepper didn't back down. "How did he get it?" 

"You can get the flu any number of ways." The doctor looked at Tony's chart again. "The important thing is we get you better." 

"Okay." Tony squeezed Pepper's hand in his own. "What do you suggest?" 

"Staying the night, for one." Tony groaned. "To get your hydration levels up." 

\----

It took a week for Tony's flu to go away. 

Long enough, it seemed, for Norman Osborn to weasel his way into a collaboration with Stark Industries, anyway. Tony was to build him a state of the art containment facility. 

He wasn't happy about it and he didn't trust Osborn as far as he could see him. But they did have one thing in common: they each had a son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Peter's first friends: Harry Osborn, Ned Leeds, and a dog named Fran.


	12. Nine Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long!!!! I've been pulling an insane amount of doubles at work and it is e.x.h.a.u.s.t.i.n.g being an adult.

Tony was nine months into parenthood and Peter had been sick around five times. It was getting a bit ridiculous. It was like Peter was out to get him for some reason. 

May had scoffed when Tony told her how he felt. "He's a baby, Tony. He's going to get sick." Tony had been cleaning snot off his fingers in the kitchen sink, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. Peter was bouncing in his baby-walker, a fist in his mouth and a small looking glare in his flushed cheeks. "Just go get him some baby tylenol and he'll be fine in no time." 

Tony found it hard to not trust her. But he also found it hard to go anywhere with Peter since the attempted kidnapping. While JARVIS would surely keep the mansion safe and Ben had more than proved himself capable of protecting Peter, but… Tony didn't trust anyone but himself, Rhodey, and Pepper with his baby boy currently. Even if he logically knew he should. 

"Fine." He dried his hands and instead grabbed Peter from under his armpits and settled him on his hip. "Let's go, mimmo." 

May had stopped protesting pretty early on. She seemed to understand his need to keep close to his baby. Ben didn't understand as much, but he kept his mouth shut. Pepper protested for just a moment and Rhodey followed Tony quietly and with a watchful eye. 

Tony bundled Peter up, the knit hat Mama Rhodes sent stopping just above his brow and his mitten covered hands pushing Tony's cheeks together to look like a fish. His nose was red at the tip, like Peter was competing to be Rudolf this Thanksgiving. 

Tony decided to walk instead of drive that day - it was chilly but sunny. Malibu never got quite as cold as New York did and even with the ocean breeze the coldest it got tended to be around fifty. Which was cold enough for a baby to catch a cold, apparently. Tony pretended not to notice Happy walking along after them, grumbling softly to himself. He pretended that he couldn't hear the uneven step of Ben as he walked just a few paces behind Happy. 

He pretended he was alone. With his baby boy. Just on a nice, evening walk. 

The corner store wasn't far from the mansion. Far enough that Tony felt slightly winded and was regretting his choice of walking but not far enough that Tony was swearing like Happy was. A woosh of warm air greeting them as they walked into the store, Peter babbling in his arms. 

"I agree completely." Tony hiked Peter up farther in his grip, the baby had slipped down a little during the walk. Pepper had insisted on getting him little Timberland boots even though Tony didn't see the point of Peter wearing shoes. The kid couldn't even walk yet and if he played outside it was with those cute little slip on shoes not ones that were big, bulky, and hurt to be kicked with. 

Peter hated the shoes too. Tony knew his kid. "I told her not to get you those." 

"No da-dah!" Peter squaked at him, his little voice nasly in a way Tony strongly disliked. 

He located the medication easily, gripping it in his hand and making his way to the counter. Peter started to cry, though, the moment Tony went to leave the isle. 

For absolutely no reason. 

"Come on, Pete." Tony tried not to sound annoyed. Peter was sick. Peter was still a baby. He couldn't communicate the way Tony was used to and, for all intents and purposes, he was a great baby. He didn't cry uselessly, he took to solid foods well, was learning words remarkably fast, and loved almost anything Tony showed him. 

So Tony couldn't really understand what was coming over him. 

Absently, he placed the back of his hand to Peter's forehead. It was warm, but nothing dangerously so. Tony had felt dangerously warm. This was just moderately concerning. "What's wrong, baby boy?" Tony tickled his chin. 

Peter strained to reach something behind Tony. 

There was another person in the isle. She was pushing a cart, though, with a plump little one in a car seat where a child was supposed to sit. He was holding a stuffed rabbit and blinking owlishly at Peter. 

Tony put two and two together. 

Until he didn't. 

Because Peter wasn't actually reaching for the toy. Tony couldn't figure out what he was reaching for. 

"Oh what's got him in a tizzy?" The woman cooed, sympathy on her face. Tony welcomed it, for a moment. It was better than pity, which Happy and Ben would have been wearing if they were there to see the commotion instead of waiting outside. 

The woman was classically pretty, her accent soft and lilting. She wasn't from Malibu. Wasn't from the United States to be more specific. 

"He's…" Emotional? Complicated? "A bit of a mess, if I'm being honest." 

She laughed. It sounded like music. "The best ones are." She pointed at her own quietly observing baby. "Ned here cried because I wouldn't let him lick a frog yesterday." 

The baby didn't look offended, like Peter would have. He seemed to be proud of himself for even getting far enough to try licking the frog. Tony's mouth twitched. "Pete takes after me in all the worst ways." 

"And all the best ones, I'm sure." 

"There are no best ones in a market, ma'm." Peter's cries had turned into whimpers at this point, his red splotchy cheeks pressed into Tony's neck. Tony rubbed his back. "He's just got a bit of a fever." 

She hummed and looked around thoughtfully. "Have you tried a Warmie?" It came out of the blue. 

Tony didn't even know if it was English. "A what now?" 

"Ned loves his." She gestured to the bunny the baby was currently gnawing on. "Won't go anywhere without it." 

She reached over Tony's head and grabbed something off the shelf. It was an elephant, light blue and heavy. Too heavy for Peter to hold but his brown eyes seemed to lock onto it the moment it was in his view. "It helps him sleep." 

Tony took it wordlessly, momentarily stunned by the kindness. 

He had gone only a few places with Peter in public, but never once had anyone so thoughtfully paused to help him with a crying child. Some women cooed over Peter and and a lot of magazines tried to take his picture. But no one had ever tried to help before. "I just…?" 

"Microwave for a minute and thirty." She nodded. 

Tony nodded back and took the elephant from her hands. It was soft and smelled of sweet lavender. "What do you think, Pete?" He asked the boy in his arms. Peter's hand pet the fur, his gummy smile pulling across his red lips and tired eyes blinking up at Tony relentlessly. "Thank you." 

She waved off his gratitude. "He's your first, yes?" 

"That obvious?" Tony laughed against Peter's forehead. 

"Yes." It was blunt. 

Tony liked her. 

"I'm Tony." 

"June." 

"How would you feel about a play date, June?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Harry didn't show this chapter... Next one I promise! 
> 
> Next up: Peter's first Christmas!


	13. Ten Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyyy Merry almost Christmas in this one guys. 
> 
> We're almost to a year and then I'm time jumping to Iron Man one! I can't wait!

Life had settled into a pattern for the Starks. Tony went to work and suffered through meetings. May sent him at least three pictures a day and Pepper only glared at him when he didn't immediately forward them to her phone. Rhodey video chatted with Peter nightly, Happy and Ben started taking self defense classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Peter was learning things rapidly - every day surprising Tony with something new. Peter had a playdate with Ned Leeds every Wednesday afternoon and was around five minutes away from learning how to walk. 

His favorite show was Paw Patrol. His favorite food was pasta with butter noodles and he laughed whenever Tony made fart noises from the corner of his mouth. 

It was good. 

So of course Tony expected something to go horribly wrong.

If this was the universe's idea of "horribly wrong" than Tony wasn't about to try and correct it. 

"I'm trying to engineer a biological weapon of sorts." Norman Osborn had brought his own son along. Harry Osborn was a few months older than Peter, had bright red hair, and looked enough like Norman Osborn that Tony didn't want him anywhere near his son. Norman had put Harry on the floor and all but forgotten him. Tony wasn't about to follow suit. 

Peter was on the floor, yes. On his play mat with a plush car in one chubby hand and a plush hammer in the other. It squeaked whenever he banged it into the table - or Tony's head - and Peter loved it so much it usually made him laugh for two hours. 

But Tony hadn't looked away from him for longer than a second until Osborn had mentioned the words "biological weapon" in the vicinity of their children. 

"So this isn't just a baby meet and greet." Tony observed. 

Norman smirked. 

He knew Tony hadn't been fooled for a moment. "Think of it like a way to enhance DNA." 

"You want to recreate the super soldier serum." Tony wasn't shocked. Better men than Norman Osborn had tried… and failed. 

"I want to revolutionize a cure for all disease." 

"Privatize and weaponize." 

"It would be available to the public, of course." 

"For a steep price." 

"Like you do any better." 

Peter's hammer hit Harry square on the forehead with a squeak. Tony thought Norman would have freaked out. Tony knew he would have if Harry had thrown something at Peter. But, instead, Norman ignored it. This was all a means to an end for him. 

Luckily, no baby started to cry. Instead, Tony was amazed to watch his own son betray him once more by leaning forward to press his version of a kiss to Harry Osborn's forehead. Right where the hammer had hit. And then the two babies collided heads and fell onto their backs with giggles that almost sounded like cries. 

Norman seemed to flinch at the joyous laughter. Tony felt his lips quirk into a small smile. He frowned not a moment later, remembering whose company he was in. "What do you need my help for?" 

"This strand right here, specifically."

They got to work. 

Tony tried to ignore the swirling in his stomach that warned him that this was a bad idea. 

\----

Tony hadn't remembered that it was Christmas until it was almost too late. He hadn't celebrated Thanksgiving and, really, it was only Angela Leeds telling him to have a good Christmas that jolted him back to reality. It was harder to tell the passing of time in Malibu. It was easier in Boston where there was snow and humid summer and ice coated pavement. 

Not for the first time Tony missed living somewhere with four seasons. "You too, Angie." Tony hefted Peter's car seat higher up his arm and waved at her and the chubby Ned in her arms. Peter had fallen asleep at around two and had yet to wake up at three. Tony knew that if he didn't wake Peter up soon his whole schedule would be thrown off and his son would end up awake at two in the morning wanting all of Tony's attention. 

But Tony had also just been reminded that it was literally the day before Christmas Eve. His baby's first Christmas. 

And Tony had done nothing to prepare. 

Now that he remembered there seemed to be signs everywhere of the upcoming holiday. The homes in the Leeds neighborhood all had strung up lights and giant Santa Claus' camped on lawns. The stores had festive decorations in windows. Pepper was on vacation visiting family. 

Rhodey had even sent ahead presents in case he got held up wherever the Army had him stationed at the time.

Tony had talked to people about it. He had subconsciously taken steps to prepare. But he hadn't remembered. 

Which meant the mansion was not set up for a baby's first Christmas. 

He didn't even have a tree! He bet even Norman Osborn had a tree for his baby's first Christmas. 

"Well shit, Pete." Thankfully, Peter was still sleeping peacefully, his eyelashes fluttering over pink cheeks. 

Tony needed a game plan. 

He snapped Peter's car seat into place, pecked Peter's forehead just because he could, and slid into the open seat beside him. "Hogan." Happy had already pulled off into the street, his eyes glancing at Tony in the rearview. "Bring me to the nearest Target or Walmart or… or whatever." 

Tony didn't do Target or Walmart. Billionaires didn't need to. He had people that would do Target and Walmart for him. But all of those people were on holiday vacation (Tony was paying for those vacations even) and that only left him in charge of his own department store run the day before Christmas Eve. 

He was horribly unprepared. 

The closest Target was Packed with a capital P. Tony considered himself at least mildly brave, but even Peter seemed appropriately grumpy at the sheer amount of people walking into and out of the big store. He shared a long suffering look with Happy before pushing open his door and grabbing the handle of Peter's car seat. "Let's do this, mimmo." 

Peter's lungs squeaked in agreement, his stuffed sock monkey clenched tight in his fist. He shook it at the sky as though threatening Zeus to send all the others away. 

It didn't work. 

It took Tony three hours to get a complete Christmas set up. Three hours, one baby breakdown, a carriage full of presents for Peter, a whole other carriage full of presents for everyone else, and another carriage carrying a too large, prelit, fake Christmas tree. Tony had never once had a fake tree before and he hadn't been planning on having one this year but the way Peter had stared and cooed when he saw it was enough for Tony to give in. 

They had been noticed, obviously, and the bright red wearing Target staff were not so subtly following them through the store. Tony pretended not to notice the people taking pictures. No one dared approach him with Happy glaring at them except for one brave young lady that offered to hold things up front. 

Somehow Peter had ended up with reindeer antlers and Tony had to call the whole trip a quits once Peter started getting antsy. He glanced at his watch quickly and swore under his breath.

It was way past Peter's predetermined bedtime. 

Thankfully, Tony had the next week off so he wouldn't have to put May through the hell of overtired baby. He could simply wake up when Peter did and then pull him right back to sleep in his bed. Peter always seemed to sleep better cuddled to Tony's chest anyway. 

"Checking out?" Happy asked apprehensively. Tony knew he was thinking of the logistics of fitting everything into one car. 

To be honest, Tony was too. 

The cashier was too starstruck to even greet them, fumbling with the Christmas lights for a moment too long before starting to ring. 

"Excuse me?" They had been doing so well, too. 

Tony sighed. "Yes?" He barely glanced up from where he was trying to wiggle Peter's arms back into his sweater. 

"Do you mind if I…?" 

But Tony didn't have to answer and a flash had already gone off. 

He jumped, Happy jumped, and Peter just blinked in shock. "What the hell?" Tony turned on his heel faster than Happy could intervene. 

Because this person hadn't taken a picture of Tony without his permission. No, Tony was used to that. 

"Delete it." The woman swallowed. 

"But-" 

"Did I stutter?" 

She made no move to do it, so Tony did it for her. He whipped her phone from her hands and clicked on the obtrusive picture. She could have sold it for a lot of money - it was a pretty good picture - but Tony deleted it before she could even think of it. "Hey!" She reached for it back angrily. 

Tony held it out of her way. "What did you think you were doing?" It was harsh and Tony could see in the background the circle of customers that had surrounded them. Many of them had their own cameras out, filming the exchange. He could hear Happy in the background trying to get the cashier to hurry up and grumbling to Target's overweight and underpaid security guard. 

"Give me my phone!" 

"He is a child!" She flinched. "You don't just take pictures of kids without permission to sell to the highest bidder!" 

"I… I'm sorry." 

She wasn't sorry. 

"I'm keeping this." He waved her phone at her, enjoying a little too much how red her face got. 

"You can't just-!" 

"Bill me." He turned his back on her, squarely secured Peter's knit cap on his head and pulled the car seat from the carriage. "Happy." 

"I got it, boss." He tossed Tony the keys and Tony tossed him his wallet. 

"People," The crowd parted like the red sea, the automatic doors swooshing open. "Am I right, Pete?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pop on over to Salvation to get your angsty/Uncle Rhodey feels. 
> 
> I adore you all.


	14. Eleven months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so short....

Rhodey had watched Peter a handful of times. He had held him when he cried, fed him his first solid food, given him plenty of baths, dropped him in the ocean only once, and changed way more diapers than he ever wanted to. But Peter learning how to walk was still the most terrifying and enlightening thing he had ever done in his lifetime. 

Peter refused to walk without shoes so Rhodey was only too aware of all the little things his chubby little baby feet could stomp on. May hadn't been able to stay the night and Tony had some sort of business thing to attend to all night at the office so that left Rhodey uncomfortably in charge of one very determined and newly mobile toddler. 

"Come on, Pete." Rhodey sighed with a long breath. He knew Peter understood him but the baby just kept on waddling away from him, his little pudgy hands smearing on the glass of the sliding door. "You're supposed to be in bed already." 

"No!" Peter's hands banged on the glass defiantly. 

He was giggling, though, so it was hard to stay mad. 

"Your father is going to kill me." Rhodey dropped down behind him, his legs bracketing Peter on both sides and his hands coming up to rest on the baby's waist and hold him in place. 

Peter turned to look at him and laughed. 

Right in his face. 

And fell on his butt in the process. 

"Christ kid." Rhodey laughed a little too. "You just want me to get in trouble." 

Peter planted his hands on the floor and his butt in the air, his tongue sticking out of his lips in concentration. "It's time for bed." 

"No!" Peter grabbed onto Rhodey's hands to steady himself. "No 'Odey." 

Rhodey's heart melted. "You win." 

His hand slapped him in the cheek, little nails digging into the skin and a gummy smile on his face. Peter was growing a tooth now, Rhodey could see the small crown of white peeking from the pink gums. Tony had said it was starting to bother him, the baby up at all times of the night and chewing on anything he could get his hands on. It seemed miserable for him and Rhodey had been there for exactly one teething related tantrum. 

He didn't want to repeat the experience. 

May had left baby tylenol on the counter and Ben had warned him while helping May with her jacket that Peter had had five tantrums just in that afternoon. So far, Rhodey considered himself lucky. 

They sat for awhile, Peter balancing on Rhodey's thighs and listening to the waves. His hands were chilly against Rhodey's bald head and his breathing was slowing down the way it did whenever he got sleepy. Just a little bit longer now, Rhodey thought to himself. A little bit longer and then it would be time for bed. 

"Welcome home, sir." Rhodey jumped. Peter jumped and slipped off the meat of his thighs. 

"Whoa there!" He scooped him, their heads nearly colliding. 

"Don't break my kid!" Tony had already dropped his bag by the door, seemingly uncaring about its contents. He kicked off his shoes in the entryway and shrugged off his jacket at the same time. He stumbled in the process. 

"Don't break yourself." Rhodey advised unhelpfully. 

"Dah-Dah!" Peter squealed immediately upon catching sight of Tony. 

Eleven months on this planet and Tony Stark was still his favorite person in existence. It warmed Tony's cold heart and broke down the barricades he had in place for decades. "Hey there, mimo." 

Tony scooped him up, laughing as Rhodey's knees cracked when he stood. Peter's little arms wrapped tight around his neck, an open mouthed kiss pressed to Tony's own lips in greeting. "Why aren't you in bed?" 

Peter squealed in answer against the stubble of Tony's neck. "Oh makes sense." Tony's hand rubbed against his back soothingly. "How was he?" 

"Cranky." Rhodey got himself a glass of water from the tap. "Wanted to wait for you." 

Tony looked tired in a way Rhodey had never seen on him before. Healthy. Happy. Fatherhood looked good on him. 

They were clearly the apple of each other's eyes. Peter had the habit of scratching at Tony's chin stubble, they seemed to communicate with only a touch and a look. "I missed you." Tony whispered to him like a secret. 

Peter seemed to understand if the way he hugged Tony as tight as his little body could was any indication. Rhodey wished he had a camera. "JARVIS?" 

"Already got it, Colonel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check back later today for first birthday!


	15. One Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god.... one year... this is it friends. It's been a wild ride.

Peter's first birthday came during a rainstorm. Tony considered it ruined - he had pulled out all the stops, so to speak. Had booked a band, privatized one section of the beach with a large donation, bought way too many presents and a huge cake the size of ten Peter's. But, it seemed Mother Nature had other plans and instead of a band they were regulated to thunder cracks and lightning strikes over water. Tony was disappointed to say the least. 

Peter, though, seemed undeterred. He was happily the star of the hour and seemed more than happy enough to entertain. The Leeds family had arrived a few minutes ago and Tony had begrudgingly invited the Osborns on Pepper's request. The three baby boys seemed to be having the time of their little lives, laughing at almost everything. 

May had corralled the three boys into a circle, a picture book open on her lap and Peter gnawing on the corner of a cloth birthday boy cap Tony had made for him. Rhodey was sitting on the couch deep in conversation with Happy and Mrs. Rhodes. The Leeds were chatting with Pepper and Norman's wife. Norman himself had left soon after arriving, seemingly turning his nose up at the purely childish theme to the party. Ben was taking pictures of May and the kids not far off, trying to be sneaky but failing rather spectacularly when the flash kept going off. Obadiah had arrived last, a perfectly wrapped present stuffed under his arm and looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else. 

"Why are you hiding over here?" It was Pepper that asked, a glass of seltzer in her elegant fingers. 

"Just… taking it all in." 

It was a lot to take in. Peter felt like he had been in Tony's life forever. He felt as though this, watching his little boy and seeing him grow, was all he was ever meant to do. 

A year before Tony was on the verge of alcoholism, among other things. He was his absolute worst version of himself - arrogant, angry, selfish. And, sure, he was still all of those things… to anyone but Peter. No… Peter was pure. Perfect. His little salvation all in one. 

Tony would give anything for his smile. 

"The party is going good." She observed with a pretty smile. 

Tony hummed and raised an eyebrow. "I had better planned." 

"He's not going to remember it." She assured him. 

But Tony would. 

He had wanted the day to be perfect. His baby was now a year old, after all. And that deserved to be celebrated. 

"Dah-dah!" Peter squealed suddenly, just as a loud rumble of thunder broke through the air. Ned, the Leeds boy, had jumped almost comically high in the air and Harry, Norman's spawn, had started crying almost immediately. "Dah-dah! 'Ook!" 

Peter's pudgy little finger was pointing out towards the glass windows, raining puttering on them loudly and splashing against the wood of the deck. 

No sense of fear, that one. "I see, mimo." Tony scooped him up under his armpits, balancing him on his hip and helping him press his face against the glass. 

There were giant waves crashing against the shore, the sky dark for three in the afternoon. Peter's arm was tight where it gripped his shirt, his doe eyes wide and nose pressed into a tiny dot on the window. May huffed a laugh. "You like the waves, Pete?" 

"A'nt, pre'ty." It was broken speech, something Tony hadn't noticed Peter did until now. May seemed used to it. 

"He had trouble saying May." She shrugged in explanation, her cheeks red. 

Aunt. 

Tony snorted. "Welcome to the family, I guess." 

She smiled a soft, secret smile and Tony pretended he didn't notice the picture Ben snapped of the two of them with Peter between them. 

"I think it might be cake time." Rhodey pulled them back into the party. Harry had stopped crying a minute before, his eyes red and cheek pressed against his mother's shoulder. Ned had been using Rhodey's hands to balance, wobbling precariously as he stood in place with his tongue out for concentration. 

"Cake?" Tony gasped loudly, Peter's eyes getting wider almost impossibly. 

"'Ake?" He echoed. 

Tony tickled his stomach. "Cake!" 

\-----

The party ended not long after, all three babies tired out and everyone bidding them goodbye as they left. Tony had winked at Ben as he helped May into her rain coat, his cheeks instantly reddening. 

It left just the two of them in a home full of mess. Wrapping paper was strewn everywhere and Peter currently was having more fun with a box than any of the toys people had gotten him. His child, everyone. 

Tony sat next to him on the carpeted floor of his nursery, a stuffed bear hanging from Peter's mouth and his little hands coming up to tug at Tony's pant leg. "Rawr!" 

"Rawr!" Tony mimicked. 

Peter smiled and Tony felt, suddenly, like crying. 

"Come here, mimo." Tony pulled him forward, Peter's face inches from his. Tony could count his freckles, could examine every inch of deep brown eyes and button nose. "Stop growing, baby." He whispered and hugged Peter tight. "Daddy's not ready for you to be bigger… we've gone through a lot together, huh?" 

Peter squeaked in agreement, a pudgy arm wrapped around Tony's neck and his cheek pressed against stubble. It had been one hell of a year. 

Tony remembered holding him for the first time - he was so fragile and small. So strong and expressive and he was so damn smart. Pride pulled at his chest at this wonder in his arms.

This. 

Him. 

Peter James Stark was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Ti amo tanto, mimo." 

"Wove 'ou." Peter exclaimed brightly. 

"Love you too, tesoro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out for part two in the series: Desert Sands and Broken Plans aka Iron Man one.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me how ya feel, fam. 
> 
> Want more? Prompt me in the comments. :D


End file.
